Time
by alienonmyshoulder
Summary: Sometimes time is all we have.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N All the usual disclaimers apply. I don't own characters nor is any profit sought._**

* * *

"There's never enough."

"And yet here you are with all of it in the world."

"It's all I do have left in the world."

Time.

* * *

Don looked down at a mountain of paperwork. 11 hours spent chasing the bad guys and now he was looking at another 5 of bureaucracy. A sigh escaped his lips.

"Like you didn't know this was coming." Megan smirked at Don. His face comically exposed his lack of enthusiasm for the task ahead.

"Yeah, it's lonely at the top eh. Where you off to? Your telescope perhaps."

"And here I was going to offer a hand."

"Look, Megan, you may have bluffed Taggart into confessing but your mind tricks don't work on such an experienced agent like me. Or maybe you can explain those keys in your hand by some other mysterious means?" Don stretched back in his chair and mockingly sized Megan up.

"Boy, you're good. You should be a detective."

Megan waved a small wave and left the building. Don looked across the way to where Colby and David were buried in their own paperwork. Why was it that Megan always managed to finish hers hours before they did? Admittedly his paperwork was a lot more time consuming, still Colby and David weren't exactly slack.

Wandering over to the two weary agents Don felt generous. David looked up as the soft familiar shuffle of Don Eppes made its presence known.

"Hey Don, don't tell me you've finished too?"

"No way. How much longer for you two?"

Colby turned and grimaced. "Maybe another hour."

Don nodded. The long haul. His arm was draped over the glass divider of their cubicle. Don slid it off as he contemplated his choices. He could leave the paperwork till tomorrow but then one of the other cases would no doubt have a breakthrough and he'd have to put it off. Nope, there was no delaying this. He had to finish it tonight. Another sigh escaped his lips as he turned towards the kitchen to grab another coffee. "You guys want a cup?"

David and Colby both shook their heads.

* * *

Thick black liquid quickly filled the mug and Don was about to return the coffee pot to the warmer when a wave of dizziness engulfed him. Quickly he grabbed for something solid to stop himself tumbling. The coffee pot he was holding crashed to the floor. It only took a couple of seconds for the world to right itself but the embarrassment would certainly last longer.

Don turned around to see Colby and David staring at him from the doorway.

"Guess you weren't a catcher in your baseball days huh." Colby braved to lighten the mood.

David glared at Colby for a second then returned his attention to his boss. "You Ok? Need a hand cleaning this up?"

Don shook his head. "No. This I can handle, course if you need any extra paperwork Colby I can arrange some." Don lifted his head from the floor where he'd been staring at the broken glass. A slight curve of his mouth revealed he wasn't mad with Colby. "Guess I could use some sleep."

"We all could," David continued, "how is it that Reeves always has her paperwork done before us? I mean she's efficient sure, but we're not exactly slouches ourselves?"

"Yeah." Don shook his head as he cleaned the mess in front of him. "I am beginning to suspect she is paying someone to do her homework for her. She's the type of person you can't trust you know."

The playful banter was nice but David and Colby still had a lingering concern for Don. David wasn't kidding. Don was as efficient as they come but he had seemed to let his paperwork get on top of him on this one. Of course, it was a particularly tough case requiring a lot of paperwork. 12 weeks of investigation and finally it was over. 2 solid weeks of stakeouts between them had been not only mundane but also incredibly tiring. David couldn't even begin to think when Don last took time off. A few days here and there were always taken but a solid couple of weeks? He wasn't entirely sure.

"Here, let us help." David walked over to the broken glass with Colby and all 3 began to clean up the mess.

"You sure you're OK?" David asked again.

"Yeah." Don replied quickly and sharply, signalling the end of the need to be asked anymore.

* * *

3 hours later Don had managed to finalise all the paperwork. Colby and David had left 2 hours beforehand. Case closed. Tomorrow brought with it a selection of new crimes. They never stopped. It always took the satisfaction out of finishing the paperwork but Don tried as best he could to focus on the case at hand. The one he had finished.

Snapping out his arm, he checked the time. 9:01pm. _I guess I could drop by Charlie's on the way home._ If he could drag out going home he could drag out a sense of accomplishment to closing the case. If he went home, he'd be only a few hours away from waking up to a new day and new crimes.

With his jacket swiftly manoeuvred on, Don left the office for the evening.

* * *

"Dad. Charlie. Anyone home?"

Don received no reply. He hadn't yelled it very loud in case one of them was asleep. The lights were on which meant someone was up or they were out. _Because burglars NEVER think you're home when lights are on. _

Tossing his keys on to the table, Don headed towards the fridge and a cool beer. _What? _There was no beer in the fridge. He was momentarily stunned. Then a sound distracted him. It was the sound of giggling. Female giggling. Well, only women and Charlie tended to giggle.

Following the sound to the backyard Don found Charlie and Amita drinking beer on the backsteps.

"Don?" Charlie nearly tumbled over as he tried to disentangle himself from the clinch he and Amita had playfully gotten themselves into. Redness flushed briefly over Amita's cheeks.

"Woah, hey. Sorry guys." Don waved his hand in the air to signal he was out of there and walked back inside. He felt stupid. _I just walk in all the time. _In this instant he realised Charlie had moved on. Charlie didn't need him anymore, not the way he needed his family all of a sudden after all these years.

"Hey Don." Charlie rasped, breathlessly trying to catch Don before he walked out.

"Sorry Charlie." Don meant it.

"No, it's Ok. It's just…ah…um."

Don chuckled. "Listen buddy, trust me, I'm sorry. I'll call before I just drop round in future, at night anyway. I don't want to see that anymore than you want to be surprised."

"No it's cool." Charlie tried to mean it.

"No, it's not. I was just on my way home anyway. Where's dad by the way? Thought he had some big business meeting in the morning."

"He does. I swear he's reverted back to his teenage years. I feel like the father asking him where he's going and when he's gonna be home. He's on a date." Charlie paused, gulped for strength and finished "With Millie."

Don smiled inwardly at Charlie's discomfort. He loved dropping by but boy was he glad he didn't live here.

Amita came in from the backyard pulling her shawl over her shoulders. "Hey Don."

"Hey Amita, listen I'm sorry. You two carry on as you were, I was just passing." Don headed straight for the door, giving Charlie a mischievous smile. As he was reaching for the door handle it suddenly flung inwards, smacking him directly in the forehead. He tumbled to the ground from force and shock.

"Donnie. Oh my god." Alan cried as soon as he realised what he'd done. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. 2 for 2. I am definitely going home now. I've got the picture." Don rubbed at his forehead, he'd had a headache before, now it was going to be hanging around. He must be tired. Surely he would have noticed the sound of his dad's car approaching before he walked in to the door in normal circumstances.

"Nonsense. Oh dear. We haven't seen you in weeks. Sorry. Little bit of kharma telling you to visit your family more often." Alan offered a hand to help Don up from the floor.

"Yeah right" Don replied, still rubbing his forehead. As he reached full height another wave of dizziness coursed through his veins. "Woah."

"How hard DID you hit him Alan?"

Don WAS tired. Until she spoke, he hadn't realised Millie was with Alan. The arm of the couch had been sought and Don steadied himself with it.

Both Charlie and Alan had rushed to his side when he swayed. Their concerned looks were comical and Don had to laugh. "I'm fine, just got up too fast – thanks Dad."

"Yeah well you went down pretty quick too G-man." Charlie quipped.

"Ha ha" Don snarked at him.

"You sure you're Ok?" Alan enquired again.

"Yes. So where have you been?" Don asked.

Alan suddenly pulled back from observing Don and subconsciously moved towards Millie. "Ah." He looked at Millie for reassurance but she jumped in and finished for him.

"We were bowling."

"Bowling huh?" Don tried to suppress a chuckle.

Amita and Charlie shared a glance.

"Yes bowling. Got a problem with that?" Alan provoked. Suddenly he was back in authoritative father mode and the boys knew not to push it. "You want a coffee Millie? You staying for a bit Donnie?"

Don looked around the room. His head throbbed, he was tired, his body ached for unknown reasons and all he saw was 2 sets of couples that he had barged in on their evenings. This time it wasn't dizziness that washed over him but a massive pang of guilt and needing. His family was before him but they had their own lives and who was he to interrupt? Just because he was alone. _Alone_. He only fit them in when he needed them. When he could. His work consumed so much of his life and it was unreasonable of him to expect them to just be waiting there for him when he came home yet that's exactly what he'd thought when he'd left the office. What was wrong with him? They had lives, he couldn't just drop in whenever he felt like it. Could he?

"Don?" Alan's question snapped him out of thought. "You sure you're alright?"

Before he had a chance to answer his cell rang. "Eppes. What? Now? Ok, I'll be there in 20 minutes." As he snapped his cell shut Don sighed and stared at the blank screen. When he looked up all eyes were on him, expectant.

"Sorry Dad, shooting, gotta go. Sorry." The last sorry was for ruining their evenings but it went unnoticed by the others.

"Dinner Don. This week." The _or else_ wasn't said verbally but came across in the tone from Alan. Don nodded as he slunk out the door, closing out his family and leaving him alone once more.

_Same day, new crime. This day just couldn't get any better. What is it this time?_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I don't do this for them so it's a pleasant surprise to get them and I feel like I should respond to some of them. Yes there are more chapters and yes I will update soon. I will leave it up to the story to tell you where I am going however…**_

"What time did this happen?" Don was crouched above a body, an FBI Agents, covered in a white sheet, the warm asphalt underneath staining a darker colour from the blood.

"Around 9pm. Witnesses say she was with someone but nobody has been able to find that person since." Megan's voice was sure but Don knew her well enough to know she was exhausted, like him.

"Ok. Thanks for coming back in by the way. We need to find that person. Either they are in danger…"

"…or they know something. And no problem." Megan smiled as she finished Don's sentence but it was a feeble effort.

"Yah." Don sighed. He snapped off his gloves and began to walk back to his SUV with Megan following. He kept his pace up so he remained in front. He didn't want her to see the pain on his face. _An agent. Why? _He simply didn't know how much of this he could take. It never ended, every time a crime was solved there were at least 4 more waiting in the wings to replace it. The caseloads seem to grow exponentially. A weight was pressing down on him emanating from his psyche. _I'm just tired._

"You Ok?" Megan asked. Don had hardly spoken since he'd arrived and now he was blocking her out. She had sensed Don's mood for some time now. _It's not like he has been hiding it very well, everyone's noticed._

Don didn't turn around when he replied. "Yeah."

Finally he stopped at his SUV and turned to Megan. "Another day another dollar eh."

"It's still the same day, I've already earnt my dollar for today. Before this came along" Megan said, cocking her head to the left.

"Check your watch Reeves. It's after midnight." Don gestured to her hand and instantly regretted the movement. For no apparent reason, dizziness crept over him for the first time THAT day. _Not again. Not in front of HER. Damn._ This time Don couldn't hide its crippling effect and he sunk towards the ground, slight but strong hands grasping him and ensuring he didn't fall too hard.

It took a couple of seconds before his hearing returned and he heard Megan calling out to the EMT's for help. _She sounds tired. _Her hands gently pushed him back down as he tried to get up. "You're not going anywhere until someone looks over you."

"What happened? Sir can you hear me?" Came a strange voice.

"Yes I can hear you. I'm fine, just tired." Came Don's exasperated reply.

The medic looked at Megan and she shrugged. "He has been up for 36 hours. I know, I was with him for just about every minute of it." She smiled down at Don who was desperately trying to get up from the ground and recover his dignity.

"Ok." The medic helped Don up as he and Megan helped him walk, reluctantly, to the ambulance. This late at night, it doubled as the coroners van and Don had to share the room with the black body bag of the agent who had been shot. He was distracted by thoughts of this woman's last moments allowing the medic to check Don out without too much objection.

Megan stood by as the medic gave Don the quick examination in the ambulance. "I'd like you to come in for a few tests, just to be safe." The medic's voice snapped Don out of his thoughts.

Don groaned at the thought, he truly just wanted sleep now. Still, if there was something wrong with him beyond exhaustion he couldn't risk being in the field. Megan blocked any escape physically and mentally now, so there was no arguing.

"You go home. I need you on this case first up tomorrow but there's no point in both of us being this tired. I'll see you first thing."

"I'd sleep a lot better knowing you are Ok." Megan offered.

"And I may not sleep at all, so one of us has to remember what we saw tonight. Go." He flashed his smile at her, eyes twinkling, hoping that was the end of the conversation.

"OK, but you better be fine. I'll arrange for your car to be dropped off back at the office." Megan patted his knee and turned to go home. The medic knocked on the van to signal to the driver he could go. He closed the back doors as Megan walked towards her car.

The ride to the hospital was sombre for Don. His mind couldn't stop thinking about the agent's final day. Had she been happy? _Probably not, she's dead now._ _Had she known her killer?_ _Had she apprehended her killer and this was their retribution?_ But the one question he couldn't shrug off, the one that bore down on him as he and the medic sat in silence in the back of the ambulance was _Why?_

_Why? Why her? Why now? Why did people do this? Why did he have to see this? Why did he do this? _

It wasn't long before they were at the hospital. Don hung back while the body of the agent was taken out of the ambulance first. He was then ushered in to an examination room where he was subjected to blood tests, had his reflexes checked and basically thoroughly examined.

"So have you had any accidents lately? Bumps or bruises?" the doctor asked Don.

"Actually, this evening," Don gulped, boy this was embarrassing, "a door hit me."

"A door hit you?" Neither could suppress their smirks.

"Yes. I didn't walk into it, it flung itself into me."

"Right, and did you black out or anything?"

"No, but actually I did feel a bit dizzy for a few seconds afterwards."

The doctor didn't react, he just went straight for the next question.

"Right. Any other bouts of dizziness lately?"

Don looked up at the doctor and was about to say no when he remembered the coffee pot incident.

"Yeah, today, earlier. At work."

"Did you black out on that one?"

"No."

"And how long has it been since you've slept?"

"I don't know, about 36 hours. I put it down to tiredness."

"It might be, we just need to make sure. And when did you last eat?"

"Honestly, don't remember. I had a coffee about 6pm."

"Yeah, that's not a food agent." The doctor had a think, wrote some details down and then looked back up at Don. "I'd like to arrange a CT scan. The earlier the better."

"A CT scan?"

"Yeah just to make sure there's not a neurological reason for what's going on."

"Like what?"

"Well like you said, it's probably tiredness but I want to rule out any abnormalities like a blood clot, virus or a tumour."

"A tumour?" Don froze.

"Like I said, it's unlikely. May as well check it out though."

Don stared at the doctor and then into space as he digested this information. _A tumour. _He knew he'd said it was unlikely. _I'm just tired. _But just the thought of the possibility of a tumour made Don think about it. Memories of his mother flooded his mind and he choked back his fears. Never, he never, believed he would have a long drawn out death. He was bright and bold and he was going out with a bang, not the demeaning whimper his mother endured. When she returned home after chemo she was a shadow of her former self. The cancer stripped away not only her life in the end but along the way her will, spark, faith and passions. This was not the end he wanted for himself.

Sensing Don's thoughts the doctor tried to reassure him. He'd seen patients experience these thought processes many times before. Facing your own mortality was not something he'd experienced, but he'd seen many people not only face it but succumb to it. "Look there's nothing obvious so you may be right, it may just be a combination of exhaustion and low blood sugar levels. It will be a couple of days before we have your blood tests back but I can't let you go out in the field during that time. Leave your details at the front desk and we'll let you know when to come back in for that CT scan."

The doctor snapped off his gloves in a similar fashion to how Don had at the crime scene. It reminded him of the woman. He was tired, and tired of thinking of her. He just wanted to go home and he looked down at his watch. 3:45am. Forget about where had the day gone, this was a brand new day and he'd already spent far too many hours of it on the new case as it was. _Sigh. _He was going home to his empty apartment, but at least he was going home tonight, SHE wasn't. And SHE died alone unless this mystery person could tell them otherwise.

Another symbolic look at his watch and Don decided he had just enough time to get home and get ready for work. _Sigh._


	3. Chapter 3

People shuffled around the cubicles, like ants, searching for crumbs to take back to their cases that would eventually lead them to perpetrators. Amongst them was Megan. With only 5 hours sleep under her belt she was beginning to feel the pinch.

"Well there is some benefit from taking longer with your paperwork."

Megan looked up over her glasses to a fresh faced Colby. _He's had more than 5 hours sleep!_

"Yeah but guess who has the job of trawling through all of this agents' previous cases? She wasn't young."

Colby's face pallored. "Says who?"

"Says the first agent in the office who gets to assign the tasks." Megan grinned as she kicked a box of archived records across the floor to Colby's feet.

"Yeah, well we'll see what Don has to say when he's in. Surely there's some important witness that will only talk to a nice boy from the mountains." Colby was clutching at straws.

Ordinarily Megan would have bitten back with another wisecrack but the mention of Don made her mind creep over last night's concern for him. It didn't go unnoticed by Colby.

"What? No comeback? You must be getting on there Reeves. Was a time when I knew you couldn't stand to have someone take the last word."

"Yeah well maybe if the material you provided me was a little better I could work with it." She smiled up to Colby to reassure him.

"See that's the Megan we all know and love. What's up?" Colby often came across as a larrikin but he was an agent for a reason. He was observant and he noticed Megan's demeanour had changed. He couldn't remember what he had said to trigger the change so he couldn't pinpoint it.

"Oh nothing. Was just wondering where Don was actually. When you mentioned him."

_Don huh._ Colby wondered why Megan would be concerned, or even mention Don, until his own mind took him back to the previous days incident in the breakout room. Had she heard about it? Was she worried? None of them had much sleep over the past few weeks, he was surprised HE was still standing on more than one occasion. So while he had been worried at the time, Don's explanation was more than reasonable. David had pressed Don, information was very hard to pry out of the guy at the best of times but you could still tell when he was hiding something. He simply didn't seem to be concealing anything, other than his tiredness and embarrassment.

"Oh yeah, what time you two finish up last night? Late huh?" Colby asked and Megan was about to answer when David entered the cubicle.

"Morning guys." They both turned to look at him, the sudden entrance interrupting their conversation meant neither returned the greeting.

"O-K. So we didn't ALL get a good night's sleep?" David grinned.

Colby walked back towards David and engaged in the conversation finally. "Those of us on this side of the office did. Not so sure about the bear over there."

"What happened? I got a message you guys were called in around 10:30 last night. Something about an agent killed. How long were you out there?" David wasted no time getting to the facts.

"Long enough." Megan sighed and pulled out the paperwork. "Agent Truillo. She's been on the force 23 years, solid agent. Child protection mainly. Thousands of cases and thousands of people with a grudge. So thousands of hours of checking paperwork for anything that stands out."

"What about Charlie? Lots of data. Right up his alley, he might be able to narrow down our searches." David offered.

"Yeah, was gonna do that but thought I'd wait till Don came in. Let Colby sweat it out a bit with that box." Megan pointed to the archive box she had kicked towards Colby earlier. A cheeky grin flashed across her face.

"Oh I see Reeves. Don was right, you can't be trusted." Colby joked.

"What? When did he say that?" Megan folded her arms in mock anger.

David jumped in to tighten the screws on the joke. "Right after he smashed the coffee pot in frustration of you leaving early last night."

"Early. I don't really consider that early. But hey, watch and learn guys, you could learn a thing or two about organisation from me." Megan paused and considered something for a moment. "Did he really break a coffee pot in anger?"

David and Colby laughed together for a second and then David stepped in to explain. "I can't verify that. It's my take on it anyway. It was an accident. He blames fatigue. Why do you ask? Scared you are in for a serve huh?"

"No." Megan was piecing together some facts which she didn't particularly find appetising. The incident last night was frightening enough for her but she felt comfortable that it was fatigue. She was no doctor, but if this was another 'spell', and there was more than one incident, it was certainly was a concern. It took a few seconds for her to break out of her thoughts and realise Colby was staring at her.

"Anything wrong?"

"No. Nothing. Just. Well last night. Ok you have to promise me you won't tell Don I told you. He didn't say I couldn't but I am guessing it's not the sort of thing he'd want spread around to everyone."

David and Colby were intrigued and drew themselves over to Megan's cubicle for the gossip.

"Ok, well when were leaving last night. Don kind of…" Megan paused and looked around to make sure no one else was listening. This was not an obvious gesture to anyone but David and Colby. Satisfied, she continued, "well he kind of fainted."

"What?" David snapped and stood up straight.

"Yeah. I came home but he was taken to the hospital for a check up." Megan finished.

"Woah. So there's something really wrong." Colby quipped.

"No, not really, it was just a precaution. I think, well OK they think, it's just exhaustion. Which makes sense. I don't know. But see I thought it was a one-off." Megan thought about what this meant.

"Right. Still have you heard he isn't coming in today?" David, ever the pragmatist, asked.

"No." Megan offered. "So it must be that, right.?"

"You can ask him yourself." David said as he noticed out of the corner of his eye Don leaving the lifts.

Colby and David went back to their cubicles and left the interrogation to Megan.

"Hey Don. How are you?"

Don knew this was Megan's subtle way of asking about his trip to the hospital. He was utterly exhausted now, they told him to take the day off but eventually relented that he could work a few hours, but definitely no field work till the all-clear. Don simply didn't care. He had to be at work because he couldn't stand being at home with his thoughts. After last night's incident at his dad's he simply didn't feel comfortable burdening his family with his problems. Charlie and Alan needed time to concentrate on themselves and their relationships. Besides Charlie did not react well to family members getting cancer, he couldn't risk forcing him back in to the garage, even if it was just a possibility. They didn't need their screw up son and brother with yet another problem on their doorstep taking up all their time. So with 2 hours sleep and an hour in traffic, Don was finally back at work and just didn't feel in the mood for answering Megan. So he just gave her a stare and a faint nod.

"Woah!" Megan jumped up out of her chair in surprise. She then whispered something to him as he arrived at his desk. "Did you get that last night?"

She was pointing at his forehead. Momentarily confused, Don finally worked out what she was talking about and explained, monosyllabically.

"No. Actually yes. Not when I saw you. Earlier."

"Wow, it's a real shiner. How are you going to explain it. It wasn't there when I saw you."

"Yeah well it clearly hadn't come up yet."

"So you gonna explain or do I have to start office rumours that you have taken to having affairs with ex-wrestling champs' wives." Megan was proud of the joke but still concerned as to what the hell was happening with Don. He had a bruise the size of an egg smack bang on his forehead.

Don was barely audible as he spoke "I hit a door."

"What?" Megan genuinely hadn't heard.

"I hit a door." Louder.

"You hit a door? Oh come on Don, even the battered women we occasionally see do better than that."

"Technically the door hit me, but I figured this was less embarrassing OK. So where are we at with the Truillo case." Don went straight in to agent mode.

Megan leaned in again and gently offered "You Ok? With the hospital I mean? How many hours sleep you get?"

"Yes. Yes again. Two and before you ask another question, no field work till the tests come back. I'll tell Colby and David but that's it, OK."

"Ok. Well if you're desk bound maybe we don't need to get Charlie in to go through this data." Megan smirked.

"No way, bring him in. The last thing I need with this headache is thousands of child rape cases to go through." Don attempted a smile but he just didn't have the heart. He was numb. He didn't feel anything. The body bag from last night flashed in his mind, only he envisioned himself in it this time. _May as well be._ No matter what reassurances the doctor gave him, his mind kept sticking on the point there was a possibility he had cancer. A possibility he would die. He faced death every day he went out in the field technically, still somehow this fear was suffocating. How could he block it out then when now, all he was left with was nothing but time to think. _Thinking. _It was his worst enemy.

"Not actually very many child rapes from what I can see. She started off in narcotics I think, bound to be some interesting stuff."

Don turned to look at Megan. Had she said anything more than this? He couldn't be sure. Megan noticed Don wasn't all there. She hadn't expected a reply so she spoke again. "You sure you should be here. You look pretty beat. And well, with that bruise, beaten!"

"Thanks Reeves. I'm fine. Give Charlie a call and see if he can come in this morning."

"Ok." Megan swivelled on her chair and went to work. She kept one eye on her boss though. If he wasn't going to look after himself properly then she would have to make sure he would. Still, she knew Don. He didn't take risks, especially not with his team. If something was wrong he would take himself out of the picture. He was doing the right thing by staying out of the field. It would take a lot for him to tell David and Colby this, but his pride was not so great that he would jeopardise any member of his team by ignoring that advice. If he were truly ill, he would not be at work at all. _Right?_

Don walked over to Colby and David and quietly told them about the incident last night. It was nowhere near as detailed as Megan's description but the fact was he needed something as background to why he was on field duty for a few days. The hardest part was explaining the bruise on his head. Colby tried so hard not to laugh when he found out Alan had done it, but it spluttered out and Don withered him down with a stare.

With the torture of that done, Don settled in for a mundane day of work.

* * *

Don was unable to concentrate for very long. Every time he read a page or cross-checked a detail his mind would wander back to what the doctor said.

_"Like I said, it's unlikely. May as well check it out though."_

He'd noticed it before, but when there was no field work to do, the day behind the desk really dragged. Seconds ticked in his head, counting down every moment wasted, every moment unable to be lived again.

David and Colby had gone out to interview a potential witness which left him alone in the cubicle with Megan. Even when her eyes weren't boring in to him, he could feel her thinking about him. He was almost going to turn around and yell at her to stop when Charlie bounded in.

"Hey Don. Wow. Is that from the door?"

"Oh gee, we all thought he was making that up." Megan smiled.

Don ignored her humour and stood up to show Charlie in to the war room. He barely spoke as he walked Charlie across other than to say "thanks for coming in". Charlie picked up on the change in his manner from normal but kept quiet. _Maybe he and Megan had a disagreement?_

"So what's the situation?" Charlie asked once they were in the war room. Hundreds of files were neatly piled on the desks and Don turned towards Charlie.

"An agent was shot last night. These are the witness reports." Don pointed to a group of files over to the left. "A few claim that Agent Truillo was with another person just before she was shot but we can't find that person to corroborate this."

"So they could be involved?" Charlie offered.

"Right. And as she's an FBI agent, there's no shortage of suspects who may want to kill her. Which accounts for these files."

Charlie gulped and looked at Don. He knew this was a tough job but the thought of someone killing this woman because of what she did for a living made him think of Don's life. _How could you do this day in and day out?_

"Boy. How do you do it? I mean statistically, you are more likely to die in a car crash, and I think it's air conditioning people who have a higher risk of being killed on the job than you do, but still, we think of this job as dangerous. How do you live with the thought you may not come home from work?"

Charlie was almost talking to himself but the words stabbed Don like a knife. It was exactly what he felt right now, but for a completely different reason. Normally he could detach himself from the work because of the action. It was this sitting and thinking and pondering that was killing him. Time.

All this time to think about his situation.

Charlie was about to ask Don if he was alright when Megan walked in.

"Hey boys. So Charlie what do you think?"

"About?"

"Um, the case. Can you do anything for us? This would take Colby quite a few days just to sort let alone prioritise most likely's. Anything you can do to speed this up?"

Charlie was still thinking about Don but the numbers and thoughts in his brain were pushing that to the side. _Something to come back to._

"Well there's network flow, game theory and all the sort of approaches I've taken in the past. I will work out which one will work best for this, so we can come up with cases that are more likely to have a reason to act. Actually, this needs a lot of data. Are you able to provide me with more files. What I'm looking for is cases that may be related to this one but Agent Truillo didn't directly work on."

"Ok. Well that's gonna take a bit of time Charlie. How do we know what cases are indirectly related?" Don asked.

"Look I'll go through these with Amita and see if we can see some patterns emerging and then I'll be able to narrow it down. For instance we can exclude cases like unarmed robbery initially because they weren't violent crimes and it's unlikely that Truillo arresting them would have serious penalties. But what if they were imprisoned and during that time a family member died. All that time alone in prison may make them think that Agent Truillo was the root cause of it all. Course that's your job not mine. I follow the numbers, but that kind of thing."

Don and Megan just stared at Charlie.

"Charlie, that's a lot of work, and I don't think we have enough people to be able to look at each case in that much detail. Not if the killer is out there. The longer we leave it the more chance there is of them moving away from our radar." Don said.

"That's not necessarily true. The longer they are left out there, the stronger they'll feel that they've escaped the scrutiny of the law. It could work in your favour."

Charlie was right and Don and Megan conceded he had a point. Still, their instinct and experience told them it was a nice argument but it was more a rarity than the norm. A criminal's worst fear was fuelled by not knowing. There is some relief in being caught.

"Eppes." Don's cell rang and he had stepped back to answer it while Megan continued talking to Charlie.

"OK Charlie. We'll see what we can do, but remember we're not on the board of Mensa so it's gonna take us a little longer to work out what you need." Megan said this as she picked up some folders and headed towards the door, nodding at Don.

The hospital were on the other end of the line, confirming Wednesday morning for a CT scan. Don kept his game face on so neither of them would know what it was about. When he snapped his cell shut Megan finished what she was going to say before she left the room completely. "I'm going to interview Agent Truillo's husband. Colby and David are back and so I'll see if I can get more info out of him based on what they've found out. OK?"

"Yeah. Tell Colby to come in here and Charlie you can tell him what information he needs to supply you with." Don responded as she left.

Charlie stood in the war room with Don, thinking about how to pick up the conversation with him. "So. Does it hurt?"

"What?"

"Your head. Does it hurt? To be honest Dad was a little upset about doing that."

"Let him be. He did clock his first born son in the head with a VERY heavy door." Don smirked.

Charlie was comforted by a brief return of normal Don and then remembered his earlier worry over why he seemed so depressed. "I guess he didn't expect to knock you out with a single blow though. He was worried about you. He doesn't think you look after yourself as it is and then you nearly collapse on the floor right afterwards."

"I'm fine Charlie." End of conversation. Don's tone said it all. Charlie knew something was definitely wrong but put it down to embarrassment rather than anything else. Colby walked in and Charlie knew that the conversation would have to wait for another time.


	4. Chapter 4

Five hours of office work later and Don was nearly falling asleep at his desk. Megan returned from her interview with the deceased husband to find Don struggling to stay focused at his desk.

"You OK? You look beat?" she said.

"So do you Agent Reeves."

"I am. And I GOT 5 hours sleep last night. What's your grand total in the last three days? 3? One a day. Not bad?"

"Yeah."

Don wasn't arguing with her. This worried Megan. Still, he was exhausted and he probably knew he couldn't push it after last night.

"Go home. I'm too exhausted to be able to catch you if you go for another swan dive because you've pushed yourself too hard. There's nothing to prove here."

"Trust me, I'd rather be here." Don really couldn't bear the thought of going home to his apartment to just think about whether or not he had a tumour. At work there was distraction from his mind. At home it was a busy thoroughfare churning over 'what ifs' and regrets. He could go to Charlie's but it would raise too many questions about what he was doing there so early in the day. Besides, after last night, he didn't feel he had the right to go around whenever he needed them. The thought of bringing more of his problems into his childhood home wasn't tempting. Already the good times had been tainted by the memories of his mother's last months in there, now it was Charlie's house and ever so slightly the dynamic was changing even further.

"Really? Well how 'bout I go home then?" Megan smiled.

"How 'bout you tell me what you found out."

"Oh. Right. Actually I think I may have a lead. When the husband was questioned last night he said Agent Truillo had gone out alone but today he remembered her saying she may meet up with an old friend from college. He couldn't remember exactly what she said but thinks that is pretty close."

"And what was she doing out in the first place?" Don said this through a yawn.

Megan gave him 'a look' over the top of her glasses and continued. "She was going to the pictures. Apparently she goes every week. He stays home and watches a game. You know Don, you really do look tired. We can manage here. The information trail is very slow and I doubt there's going to be anything going on other than data collection today. Go home."

Don looked at Megan. He was actually so tired he only really heard snippets of what she said. Still he got the gist of it. She was right. Facing his fears of being alone with his thoughts he relented. "Yeah Ok. But keep me updated if something comes up."

Megan was too shocked to respond. He was actually taking her advice. "Now you're supposed to say 'Boy Megan, you look tired too, take the rest of the day off as well.'"

"Really? I must be so tired I haven't noticed." Don looked very smug as he picked up his jacket and headed out the door.

* * *

Charlie's phone snapped shut and he turned to look at his father.

"He's left for the day."

Alan stopped drawing lines on the blueprints in front of him and stared up at Charlie.

"It's only 3pm? Do you think maybe I hit him too hard with that door? You can't be too careful."

"Dad, I told you, he was fine this morning. Apart from the bruise of course. Just a little tired. He wasn't really talkative but when is he ever."

Alan considered Charlie's words. For weeks now Don had seemed more distant when he thought about it. It wasn't until last night that Alan had contemplated this. He had been spending more time enjoying himself. Millie was great company and a perfect excuse to leave Charlie to devote some proper time to Amita in his house. Alan was acutely aware of this and hoped his more frequent social outings would give both of them a boost. It seemed to be working, it just left one thing out of the equation. Don. Sure there had been some tough cases but he hadn't actually seen him this down since, well since that last fugitive recovery case. Alan actually shivered thinking back to those dark times.

"Yeah well, you said he'd been working hard right. So maybe that bruise knocked some sense in to him and he's actually taking some time out for a change."

"Yeah." Charlie responded but something niggled away at him telling him there was something more.

"Oh Charlie, what are you up to tonight?" Alan asked, remembering something.

"Amita is going to come around and go over this data for Don. Why?"

"Nothing. Hmm. No, right that's fine. Well, actually, would you be able to do that in the garage? I mean I know this is your house but, well, what your old man really wants to do is…" Alan coughed, then continued in a quieter voice, "…is cook dinner for Millie. Here. Tonight."

Charlie just stared up at the inarticulate version of his father that he rarely saw. It would have been humorous if it wasn't for the fact it was with Millie.

"Ah. Sure. Fine. Dad, are you two dating?"

"Of course not Charlie, don't be ridiculous. We are two people who enjoy each other's company. We aren't the ones sneaking kisses in the garage." Alan raised his eyebrow and knew that this would be the end of the conversation. Charlie's embarrassment would ensure that.

* * *

Don threw his keys on his table and lay down on his bed fully clothed. The aches he had the night before had returned and he was so tired he hadn't realised he had them until he walked through his door. As he lay on the bed the room was ever so slightly spinning making him feel queasy.

Between the nausea and his mind racing over thoughts of what could be wrong with him sleep never came. There was one full day ahead of him before he would know what was on the CT scan. A full day where he both had cancer and didn't have cancer. It was like something Charlie once said to him about Schroedingers cat. At this moment in time he was both dying and alive. He couldn't be both, but until he opened the box he didn't know if his cat was alive or dead. _Is this how mom felt? Is this what she went through? _

What scared him most was telling his family. Charlie was so much happier these days. He was confident and self-assured, as always, but despite this he had never before felt really accepted by society. At least in Don's mind that's what he thought Chaelie felt. His work with all the government agencies had made him less of a freak, still a genius, but useful and therefore part of society, not a fringe dweller.

Alan on the other hand had taken a while to let Margaret go. Don understood. How can you love someone one minute and then as soon as they're gone decide you have to move on, forget about it. Life was slowly sucking him back in and he was allowed to be himself for the first time in years. He was no longer Mr Eppes, husband to Margaret, but Alan, whatever that entailed. A world of opportunity had opened up to him and he had explored it. Not to take anything away from his mom, but her death had not been entirely detrimental to Alan. He was coping and in some ways for the better. Still, in an instant, they'd all take Margaret back if they could.

Would they feel this way about him when he was gone? Don felt it was unlikely. There wasn't much to show for his life personally. Others had benefited, that was undeniable. His social commitment was well documented, but Don Eppes as a person? He wasn't entirely sure he'd been allowed to be that guy very often. College was great. The first time in his life where he'd been just him. Then mediocrity weighed down on him. His greatness would never equal Charlie's, the only thing he could offer society was a sacrifice because he was neither intelligent enough, nor skilled enough to ever be anything but a servant to its people. He had accepted he was not a great man long ago. Perhaps this is what made him blind to what he actually did contribute. Just because he wasn't the smartest didn't mean he wasn't smart.

The shadow of Charlie Eppes followed him wherever he went so that now, when he faced death in his mind, he was alone because he knew that it was better for him to go through this than Charlie. Charlie's contribution to society was so much greater. Don could be replaced. So there was no question of 'Why me" like you would expect, merely an acceptance of his fate and an incredible burning pain of why hadn't he tried to be something great. _It could be too late now._

It was this thought that finally lulled him off to sleep.

* * *

"Why don't you try him again. He's gotta eat. Course we'd have to have somewhere to eat." Alan glanced up from his crossword towards Charlie and Amita who were swamped by paperwork on the dining table. He wasn't in the best of moods because Millie had pulled a raincheck on him. _Why couldn't she have told me BEFORE I had that conversation with Charlie._

"Fine. I'm sure he's Ok you know."

"I know Charlie." Alan responded. He didn't believe it and he knew Charlie didn't believe it. Don had been on long cases before, he'd gone without sleep before. But he had never collapsed before. Not that he knew of. Maybe that was the key. Alan's mind drifted back to when Margaret first got sick. It was subtle at first. A few changes here and there. Mainly it was the exhaustion. She simply couldn't do things she had done before. Simple things. She'd be asleep before dinner hit the table.

Of course they hadn't known what it was initially, but in hindsight it meant Alan was particularly concerned about how Don had been the night before. He looked exhausted. Besides, he was the observant one. Don had noticed the changes in Margaret when he'd come to visit. He'd never said anything at the time to Alan, but Margaret told him he was the one who suggested she go see a doctor. She was very stubborn at first, but when she finally relented it was probably too late. If she'd listened to Don earlier maybe she'd still be here. It was doubtful, but it was something Alan constantly thought about. At least he used to think about. Time had slowed the frequency of these thoughts, thankfully.

"No answer again. He's not there." Charlie's voice broke through Alan's thoughts. "Or he's avoiding us. I mean I don't know where it is he goes when he's not home. I'd sure like to though."

"Me too Charlie, me too."

* * *

The phone's ring had not penetrated Don's almost unconscious slumber as he slept. He had three days worth of sleep to catch up on and his body was not giving it up for anything. It meant Don slept well until 3am the next morning when suddenly he was wide awake, and all alone.

How was it that time could slow in these dark hours of the morning? Don felt each second tick away as though in slow motion. _One more day._ Only one more day till he would have his scan and then he could stop thinking about what could be and concentrate on what action to take. That was his strength. Taking action. Funnily enough, it was one of the things that he shared with Charlie. Solving problems came easy for them both but because they approached them from different ends of the spectrum it never occurred to them that they were so similar in this respect. Of course they had a healthy respect for their abilities but they never truly thought they understood where either one was coming from.

At least his body felt refreshed. The aches seemed to have dissipated and his head had only a lingering pressure to remind him of the headache and the bruise. His mind was another story. It was more battered than ever. Don had never felt so emotional before. He was only hiding it from himself and for this reason it was all the more harder.

With no chance of returning to sleep Don washed, cooked a hot breakfast and decided to go in to the office. Yesterday he had been so tired he didn't risk driving home, he'd caught a cab, so he called a taxi to come and pick him up. If he was awake he may as well be useful. He was heading to the office. There was a case he could be working on and the darkness of 3am was pounding down on him forcing to think about his life. He could use his time more wisely trying to find who had wanted Agent Truillo dead.


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N Again thank you all for letting me know your thoughts on the story. Luvnumb3rs – I have been deliberately taking it slow for a reason and it fits with the theme, time, but I really appreciate your comment and hopefully I can tighten the next few chapters up. The story is going somewhere and I don't want to rush my pay offs. I'm afraid this chapter may drag a bit too, so apologies but once it's uploaded I am actually tapping away on the next chapter. Anyway hoping to upload a couple more chapters asap because I can't bear to wait as much as some of you seem to…_**

Agent Janice Elizabeth Truillo. 54. Married for 30 years. 2 adult sons. Both married. About to become a first time grandmother.

_Cancer._

Don continued reading the case files and the data collected the day before. A hot mug of coffee steamed over the pages as he lifted it to his lips.

_Dad will outlive mom and his first born son._

A pang of guilt echoed through his mind as he thought of Agent Truillo. Her family lost her to the job. _Is that crueller than losing someone to cancer?_ He'd thought about that many times before today. _Focus Eppes, this isn't about you._

Don noticed Agent Truillo had been a teacher briefly before she joined the bureau. It was one of the reasons she had been assigned to the child protection section later in her career. Initially she started off in narcotics but most of those cases didn't seem to involve much field work for the agent. Her strengths seemed to be in meticulously compiling profiles on who the perpetrators were. Right down to what she thought they would prefer to eat. She would have certainly given Megan a run for her money by the looks of it. And that was some praise because Don prided himself on believing he had gathered the best team on the force for their exceptional mix of skills. Megan's profiling he considered to be so good it was almost like she was a psychic. She certainly got more details right than any psychic.

By the time it was 8am Don felt he had a pretty good feel for where they needed to be concentrating the investigation. Only cases with deaths connected to them seemed to be likely candidates. She wasn't involved in any narcotic busts so money could be ruled out as a reason for assisination initially. While most of the child protection cases were extremely emotional very few didn't see jail time. And jail time for a paedophile was certainly worse than for the average crim. Luckily this meant a narrowing of cases which seemed surmountable by FBI standards. Don had told Charlie to concentrate on these kind of patterns and hopefully he could narrow it down for them and save them some time. _Time. There's never enough. _

There was also a lingering question about how her pre-FBI life may be involved. Megan had managed to track down the college buddy Agent Truillo had seen the night of the shooting. The husband finally thought he remembered the name. It appeared to be a dead end, they met briefly for about 15 minutes as the friend had been called in to work a shift that evening. She was logged in at her work when Agent Truillo was shot.

_Did Megan get any sleep yesterday? She's worked her butt off._

As if reading his mind, Megan materialized before Don.

"So what? You like a vampire now and prefer to work out of hours?"

"This IS the FBI Megan there are no out of hours." Don smiled and then warmly commented, "Did you actually leave early yesterday, I was joking about you working all day. You could have gone home and left the boys to do the legwork."

"What? And miss all the fun? I did leave early. Most of the leads came shortly after you left. But as you can see we're kinda back at square one. Have you spoken to Charlie? Do you know if he's had a chance to look at the data?"

Don thought about this. He had intended to call Charlie once he'd spoken to David and Colby but he felt he had a good grasp of the case from the files. "Not yet, I'll give him a call."

"Looks like you won't have to." Megan nodded towards the lifts, where Charlie and Alan were emerging. "And I hope you got enough sleep last night," she teased.

Don let out a sigh. He knew what this meant.

"Hey Dad, Hey Charlie."

"Don." Alan's voice was mildly stern but his eyes raced across Don's face searching for the answers he knew Don wouldn't relinquish. The bruise was massive and he seemed paler than usual but there was a sparkle in his eye that had been missing the other night. He guessed he looked refreshed.

"What are you doing here?" Don asked.

Charlie unpacked his laptop to give Alan some time to get what he wanted out of Don.

"Well now a father needs to see his son occasionally and after we couldn't get hold of you yesterday and they said you'd left early I was worried."

Exasperated Don replied, "As you can see I'm fine."

"Well looking fine and being fine are two different things, after your mother I think you know that."

Both Charlie and Don gulped at this admission from their father, Charlie in remembrance of the pain of losing her, Don in understanding of what Alan truly meant. _It would kill him to know. _Don was not going to unduly worry his father - he did that well enough on his own - until he knew for sure there was anything to worry about.

"Yeah well I'm fine, so Charlie you got anything we can use.?"

"Actually yes."

"Good. Let's head to the war room."

Megan and Charlie headed to the war room. Don hung back to speak to his father alone. Before he could speak Alan jumped in.

"Donnie I'm worried about you. The hours you've been keeping lately and this…" he wanted to say depression but didn't want to make it real by giving it a concrete sound. "You know I am not even sure you were this bad that last time. And the other night, well…I just don't know. I'm worried. And I think I have the right to be."

Sighing Don shook his head in exasperation. It wasn't a wise move, he felt light-headed but this time he was able to keep this to himself. _Damn, must need more sleep. _

"Dad. I'm fine. I don't want you to worry but if it makes you feel better I have been checked over by a doctor and I'm fine. The other night was…was just…fatigue. That's all."

Alan opened his mouth to question Don about the depression but Colby and David appeared and Don was back to business.

"Great, Charlie's got some magic tricks to show. War room guys. Dad are you staying for Charlie or will I see you later?"

"I don't know Don will you see me later?"

"Dad! Look, I'll be there for dinner tonight if you're around."

Alan knew he had no more time to continue so grabbed at this. "Good. I'll see you then. Tell Charlie I'm off to my meeting downtown. I'll catch a cab."

In the war room Charlie was confidently holding court. Four agents were waiting for the punch line.

"So using this calculation Amita and I, well we, we came back with three suspects."

Three images appeared on the screens. All men and two of them were mug shots.

"OK Charlie, we know these two but who's this?" Megan asked.

"This is the thing. We ran the analysis over the crimes she covered initially but then we needed more data."

"You always need more data," David chimed.

"Right, and so once we expanded the list of suspects to the network of people she was also associated with outside of cases and external people on those cases where a death was involved, this guy turned up."

"OK Charlie, but who is he?" Don wanted to cut to the chase.

"He's the brother of an accused child molester. Agent Truillo had to shoot to kill the perpetrator and ever since, Max Thorne has been trying to clear his name."

"Oh yeah I think I remember that case. About ten years ago right? What happened?" Don was back in form. He didn't seem to notice the aches returning to his body, nor the fact that he was sweating ever so slightly inside the super-chilled offices. Adrenaline from the action and progress of the case kept the fatigue at bay. Blissfully for a few brief seconds he didn't think about cancer.

"Max spent all his savings and about 7 years fighting the FBI in court. He lost, I don't know what he's doing now but this…" Charlie pointed at the screen where his equations were displayed, "…this, well he just keeps popping up no matter how I manipulate the numbers."

"That's good Charlie. Colby can you handle checking out the two cons there. David, you and Megan head out to check out this Max Thorne story. If you think he's the guy then bring him in. I'll see if I can dig up the old…" Don gesticulated towards Charlie as a means of requesting an answer.

"Paul Thorne. The perpetrator was called Paul."

"Right, I'll see if I can dig up the details of these cases."

As the others milled out of the war room Charlie felt unsure about whether to approach Don. Normally Alan was the only one who could truly pry information out of Don but he wasn't sure that this time he'd been successful. Something was up with Don. His exterior exhaustion simply seemed to reflect an internal exhaustion that was bothering Charlie. A niggle at the back of his brain wouldn't let it go, there was something. _It reminds me of just before mom got sick._

Charlie didn't realise his face had reflected his thoughts.

"You Ok Chuck?" Don jibed but it was meant sincerely as well.

"Yeah, sure. I'd ask if you were too but I'm guessing Dad has already got that covered."

"That he has Charlie. But just so you know, I'm fine." _Lie._ "I'll see you tonight." He felt bad about lying but he just couldn't do it to Charlie. Besides, he had to be fine. _Right?_

It's not my time yet.


	6. Chapter 6

The two cons Charlie had pulled up were both serious criminals who had served their time and were released from jail. Both were charged paedophiles who had protested their innocence throughout their entire sentence. They had both served their full sentences because none had shown any remorse to be given an early parole.

Max Thorne on the other hand was allegedly a mild mannered teacher whose brother was under investigation for paedophilia. During a raid of his home Paul pulled a shotgun from his cupboard and threatened several officers. Agent Truillo's report said she tried to negotiate him down from causing any harm but this only made him more aggravated. Eventually he cocked the gun and Agent Truillo claims she was forced to shoot. He was the only person who died on that case. Paul Thorne never faced a trial for his actions but the raid provided plenty of evidence that he was indeed guilty.

After reading all the reports Don felt in tune with Agent Truillo. He certainly understood the torment involved with killing a person. Sure society deemed them bad people, he had to protect the lives of his team and make snap decisions, but none of this eased the burden. _I wonder how many cases I have just lurking in the wings wanting to exact revenge. _It was ironic that if he did have cancer and died from it, if anyone out there did feel this way towards him they would probably be angrier.

"We've brought him in."

David's voice pulled Don from his thoughts. A slight sweat had formed on his brow that he put down to the concentration he had been giving the paperwork.

"Thorne?"

"Yeah. He's definitely a contender. Megan thinks we need to give him a push. Oh and then there's this." David threw an evidence bag on Don's desk which contained a gun.

"You wanna get it down to ballistics?"

"Sure. He's in room 4."

David and Don both headed off in their separate directions.

* * *

Megan met Don in the viewing room outside the interrogation room. She briefed him on the information they had.

"He won't talk. Keeps rabbiting on about how justice needs to be served for his brother. David show you the gun?"

"Yeah. Right so we just need to check out his whereabouts on the night. Maybe go over that CCTV street footage again. See if he shows up anywhere."

"Sure but you know there were like hundreds of people on the street that night, there's nothing we could get off it that would be clear enough to identify him with."

"I know but it's worth a shot."

"OK. How you gonna handle it?"

"Not sure." Don took off his gun and left it in with Megan who would be staying in the viewing room. No guns when interrogating witnesses.

The door to the interrogation room swung open and Don made an impressive, and formidable, entrance. Max Thorne was in his 60's, grey, balding and edgy. He didn't appear to be able to sit still.

Don knew the best tactic would be to remain standing when the witness was this edgy.

"Keep your hands on the desk," Don barked.

He threw down a photo of Agent Truillo.

"You know this woman."

Max didn't respond, not even by blinking.

"Well you don't need to answer that because I know you know this woman." Don pulled out some paperwork from a file he had carried in. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins. Finally, he was doing some work. His head was swimming with tactics and he was focused on taking this guy down.

"See, I have here a copy of the threats you made to Agent Truillo right after you lost your first court case. Says here you abused her on the steps of the courthouse saying 'Die murderous bitch.' And this one here at the FBI 'You are going to rot for what you did'. Do you want me to go on?"

Don glared at the witness. Max cocked his head and stared up unfaltering into Don's eyes. "So?"

"So. I'd say that's pretty strong feelings you had there for this woman. It's been what? Ten years. Ten long years and all you have is time to think about how you could get revenge for your brother."

"I highly doubt that verbal threats are either unusual nor evidence in the judicial system."

Don was surprised by how well spoken this guy was. He was smart. He'd kept quiet till now but slowly Don was drawing him out. As long as he kept him talking he may be able to get something.

"No. But having the police shoot your brother, that's kind of unusual don't you think? That gun of yours is being checked out right now. If it matches it doesn't matter what you say. So if you want to have any hope of having a say in how much time you do then maybe you better start talking."

Max drew in a long breath. He thought about Don's words and was formulating a response.

"People lose loved ones all the time. We grieve. We'd do anything to keep them alive or to avenge their deaths. Or do you only see the side of death from the point of view of the killer Agent?"

Don knew what he was trying to do. It wouldn't work, not with him. _Would it?_

"You honour the dead Max, not kill for them. But clearly you still seem to hold Agent Truillo and the FBI responsible for your brother's death."

"She killed him. You killed him. It's all the same."

"He was going to kill innocent people."

"I've never heard the FBI described as innocent before."

"I've never known a criminal who wasn't willing to take down an agent for their freedom."

"My brother was innocent."

"I don't know about that Max. I've seen the file. If he had lived, he would be serving life as we speak. Do you know what they do to paedophiles in jail Max? I think Agent Truillo actually showed him some kindness."

This was it. The button was pushed and for a second Don never knew how they would react, only that progress was being made.

"MY BROTHER WAS INNOCENT. You feds planted evidence to cover up the fact you are a bunch of murderous criminals. Do you know what it's like to spend ten years of your life asking why?"

Don knew this all too well. He still asked that question every time he had to pull the trigger, every time another body turned up begging for him to explain why it was there. Don knew.

Max continued, "My brother did not deserve to die like that and the justice system is as crooked as you guys."

"Your brother was a criminal. Like I said I've read his file. Even though he didn't kill any of his victims, Three of them committed suicide. Did you know that. In my eyes that makes him responsible and that makes him a killer."

"Oh yeah. And what are you? How many people have you killed agent? What makes you any different to him?"

Don thought about this. The words cut him like a knife. He had been feeling this for months and to have a suspect say exactly what he was feeling made him nauseous. _Nothing. _Sweat trickled down Don's forehead and stung his eyes with its saltiness. The light headedness returned but it was manageable. All of a sudden Don felt tired, bone weary.

"I don't molest children. Shall we start there."

A brief knock at the door gave Max no time to respond. Don headed out of the room to David.

"Megan found this in Max's belongings."

David handed Don a piece of paper in an evidence bag. It contained Agent Truillo's name and a movie session time. They had him.

"Thanks. Can you get someone to come down and charge this guy. I'll only be another couple of minutes."

Don walked back in to the room apprehensively. They had him and the thought of conversing with this guy further made him sick. Being so tired Don was almost breathless when he walked back to the desk.

"I don't need anything more from you Max. We have evidence that links you to Agent Truillo's death."

"Gee, how long did it take you to plant that?"

Don kicked the table in frustration and anger. He was sick of this guys games but he regretted his outburst.

"Let's just say you'll have plenty of time to think about how you're going to spend the rest of your life. I'd say you'd be doing the same sentence your brother would have done, life. That'll make you feel closer to him huh. Hope avenging your brother was worth it. Think of all that time you have now. "

This comment, despite coming from Don, made his stomach churn. Here he was telling a criminal he had all the time in the world and yet his own future was uncertain.

"This isn't over."

"No, you're right, it's never over. Not for the family of Agent Truillo." Don nodded towards the glass doors where a young agent was about to enter to handcuff Max Thorne and take him away.

"And here I was thinking that you FBI agents didn't understand. Do you think Agent Truillo shared your thoughts after she blasted my brother into oblivion? Or do you think because you supposedly work for the government you aren't actually killers."

Don had enough, he walked out as the young agent walked in. He went straight to the viewing room to grab his gun from Megan in an effort to seem busy so he wouldn't be alone with his thoughts. He had felt bad enough before all this started and now he was mentally and physically drained. _Must be slipping Eppes._ Ordinarily he wouldn't let a suspect get so under his skin. He had perfected the art of detachment but it was becoming so hard these days. Megan knew enough to not say anything to Don and simply watched him walk out.

After latching on his gun, his attention was diverted to a strange noise. Don turned around and glanced back at the interrogation room. Max Thorne had somehow wrestled the young agent free of his gun and was now using him as a hostage.

On instinct his gun had already been removed from his holster. Don was the closest agent to the scene. He gradually stepped forward and opened the interrogation room door.

"Let him go Max."

"Why? What do I have to lose? If you care so much about human life agent I'd let me walk out of here and this guy doesn't die."

"Not gonna happen Thorne. Now put it down before you end up like dying like your brother."

Sweat was beginning to drip furiously down Don's temple. It made his eyes swim slightly and he wasn't sure if he had a clear shot to carry out his threat. Megan had sprung out of the viewing room and was cocked next to Don. An unspoken tactic of having her remain hidden so as not to aggrevate the situation played out.

"And you could live with killing me on your conscience?"

"You'd be killing yourself so that's not a problem."

"And yet when it applies to my brother those children killing themselves are his fault? Your semantics seem to be falling apart on reason."

Before Don had a chance to answer David began moving in to take down the situation from the side of the bullpen. It caught Thorne's attention. Max raised his gun on instinct and aimed as though he was going to shoot David.

One bullet tore through Max's brain and a whiff of smoke was the only evidence it came from Don's gun.

The young agent was almost hysterical and Don moved in to quickly get him away from the situation. He had sympathy for the kid for what he went through but he also resented the fact that his inexperience had meant Don had to kill. Looking down at Thorne's body Don never could understand the surrealness that only moments ago he was alive and now nothing. A split second. A mighty pressure descended upon Don's shoulders. He was weighed down with what he'd done, his breathing quickened and his heart bounced about in his chest thumping and falling away uncomfortably.

"You Ok Don?"

Megan's voice echoed in Don's mind but he wasn't able to respond.

"Don? You Ok?


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N – Indus – in reference to not being allowed to shoot before the killer, it is my understanding that law enforcement is there to protect and serve. I am not about to let a man who has taken one agent hostage shoot David before it is OK for him to be shot (in my story). Of course you may be correct although if that is the case (and this is writing so I am taking license) then numb3rs itself has taken the same license. In Two Daughters Don shot Crystal Hoyle before she shot anyone to prevent her from ramming into a group of officers. I believe the idea of law enforcement is to protect lives and if not, reduce the amount of lives lost. This is why Don had to shoot Max Thorne before he was able to kill any of their own. The only part clear for a shot was his head. It would have been more irresponsible, and perhaps deadly, to allow Thorne to walk out of there or to shoot anybody. It was a risk I wasn't going to take. But you did make me think…and I was a little worried there for a split second that I had needlessly killed someone. I need to get out more.

* * *

**_

Blood pooled around the body.

_I'm a killer. I don't even know how many people I have killed. So many, I have no idea. I am no different to the man on the floor. _

_I…deserve…to…die._

_I've killed more people than he did. I…_

_I…._

Don's brain was failing. He didn't realize that his sensory overload and failing cognition was a result of shock. His body was tired, exhausted. With the last bit of strength it had, it was beginning to take charge. And there was nothing Don could do about it.

* * *

"Don?" Megan's eyes bored in to the motionless man. He stood there, silent and umoving. She'd seen it before. He was physically there but Don Eppes was hiding and she wasn't sure she'd be able to coax him out. This was his tipping point. She had expected it soon, hoped it would come at a less public time, for his sake. She turned to look for David.

David was feeling responsible for the death. Almost as much as Don. If he had done something differently, not been so obvious. _Damn all that training! _

"David. Help me." Megan signaled David to come over to where she was. Various other agents were scurrying about securing the scene and ensuring a proper investigation would be forthcoming. Unspoken, they left Agent Eppes' team to deal with him. There wasn't an agent in the room who did not understand at least a little, what was happening.

David meekly approached Megan and gave her a questioning look. "Help me take him to the breakout room. He needs to sit down. He's in shock." Her words were soft and gentle mainly because she was sharing his pain.

David was almost in shock himself. _Don Eppes in shock?_ He leaned in to whisper to Megan unnecessarily, Don would never register his words. "How?"

"Just. Look. Look at him David. There's more going on here than we know about. I just think this…well you know."

Grabbing an arm each and whispering soothing words of encouragement without a hint of condescension Megan and David managed to walk the forlorn agent to the comfy black chairs in the breakout room. The room had thankfully been empty.

"Can you grab him some water."

After David obliged, Megan's concerned eyes washed over Don's features. His breathing was ragged and unpredictable. Sweat dripped profusely from his pale face and even though he was now sitting he seemed to be swaying ever so slightly. Don's skin shivered as though cold but both Megan and David had felt the heat which emanated from his body when they walked him over.

With the arrival of the water David looked at Don and then knew what he had to do. "I'll call the paramedics if they aren't already on their way. Do you think he'll need them?"

"Yep. He's definitely in shock, but I don't know, something tells me it's more than that."

Nodding in agreement, David's hand reassuringly pressed in to Megan's shoulder and he headed out of the room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Colby entering the bullpen for the first time and he signaled him over to explain.

Megan's focus was now entirely on Don.

"Don? Water, please."

* * *

_Killer. Murderer. Death. Tumour. Fate._

The words were suffocating his brain. He could hardly breathe. Every breath was an effort for him to remember to take, and when he did it pained him to continue. If his heart hadn't been racing so much he wouldn't have anything to anchor him to his body and he would have simply forgotten to breathe altogether.

_So cold._

A shiver erupted over his body.

_I'm sweating?_

Senses were returning. He knew he was hot but he felt cold. Then there was the nausea. With every sense returning to him a wave of nausea grew inside him.

_Megan?_

There was someone holding something out to him. His vision was swimming and he wasn't quite sure who or what it was. Everything was so blurry and the effort required to focus was not forthcoming.

_So tired._

"Water."

Sound returned. _That was definitely Megan's voice._ Don cocked his head and with every bit of energy looked towards the face he thought must have been Megan's. _Where am I?_

"Where?"

* * *

Relief washed over Megan. Don was coming back. She had been rubbing his arm to comfort herself as much as him. Since Larry had left Don had actually become the only person she felt cared for her. As a friend as well as an agent. Larry's devotion was wonderful and consuming but when he'd left she felt so alone. Somehow Don had sensed this and subtly made sure he let her know she had friends. David and Colby had as well, but somehow Don understood the concept of being alone more intimately. _He's had more practice at it_. He was such a private man that it actually meant a lot to her to know he was making this effort. And now, now she felt helpless for her friend.

She'd seen his pain for months now. Making him confront it by mentioning it to him would have only made him more insular. Several times she had briefly mentioned it but knew that she couldn't push. Don had to be the one who wanted to deal with it. Her time with Don and knowledge of personalities made her realize this much. It made it difficult for her to see him anguishing over so many things and knowing that her intervention would only escalate the problem.

So when he finally spoke Megan was both glad and afraid. He would be Ok physically but now his brain would begin to kick in again and she wasn't sure what weight was going to descend on him.

"Breakout room. Think you're in shock. How do you feel?"

Don simply stared at Megan blankly. He wasn't entirely sure yet, but there was one overwhelming sensation.

"Restroom."

Megan knew exactly what he meant and she also knew she probably didn't have the strength to help him all the way there. She needed help.

"Do you think you can manage to stand?" she asked at the same time trying to grab David or Colby's attention.

David was just hanging up the phone when he saw Megan's gesture.

"Come on man." David tapped Colby on the shoulder as they rushed to the breakout room.

"Ok?" Colby asked when they arrived.

"Can you help me steady him. Restroom."

They all understood. Don's features had paled even more than before and Colby may not have witnessed the incident but he was thinking this had to be more than shock. Don may have stepped over the edge, but even so, he would be aware of the physical signs, he would have more control over them than an ordinary person. There was something else going on here.

* * *

Don's fingers dug in to the vinyl of the chair as he tried to hoist himself to standing. With his return to reality came a pang of embarrassment. It was swiftly brushed aside as the world tilted and he nearly crashed back down in to the chair.

"We gotcha buddy," came David's gentle reply. Don was grateful. His team was being concerned but not making a fuss. His family never understood this side of him. Not wanting to dwell or be coddled, just wanting to get on with things. Most agents shared some of these sentiments. He was never sure if it was because of this he was a good agent or whether being an agent honed this need.

Strong arms steadied Don and nodded towards Megan to open the doors. When they reached the restroom Megan stormed ahead inside to ensure no one else was in there. She then turned around and waved the other three guys in.

David and Colby led Don to the cubicle where he reached out and placed his hand on the lintel blocking his entrance.

"Thanks," he said. David was a little unsure. He knew this meant Don wanted to go in alone but he really didn't look like he was capable of holding himself up, let alone throwing up alone. Don's eyes focused on Colby, "Please."

Both agents stepped aside and Don practically tumbled to the floor inside, slamming the door shut behind him with the force. Colby had instinctively bent to catch him but David held his shoulder and motioned that they better leave him alone. Colby nodded and then turned to Megan, "So. What do you think Reeves? Like our décor?"

"Look it's nice, but it could do with the feminine touch. You know things like maybe a clean once in a while." Her face screwed up in mock disgust and David and Colby both forced a smile.

"How long for the paramedics David?" she asked.

"They said 20 minutes. I should tell someone where we are. Right."

She nodded and then they all looked towards the cubicle. Don hadn't made a sound since he'd gone in there. David patted Megan on the back and left the restroom quickly.

* * *

Inside the cubicle Don had expected to be sick instantly but he was now spinning so much he wasn't sure he would hit the bowl so he tried to position himself more. His head slipped from the wall of the cubicle as the sweat dripped off it, aggravating his bruise. There was no relief. Eventually he pulled himself up enough to be safe he'd hit his target.

_Hit the target._

He gulped and with it a surge of bile burned upwards in his throat and he retched into the toilet. _When did I last eat?_

His breakfast at 3am had been digested so it was painful contractions of his stomach muscles working overtime to release tiny amounts of bile that provided no relief for Don. It seemed endless and Don actually lost consciousness for a few seconds, a couple of times. He himself wasn't entirely sure he had until he realized that there were voices banging through his brain asking him if he was alright.

"Don?"

"Fine." It was all he could manage.

* * *

Megan and Colby looked at each other and silently agreed. That response had barely been a whisper and it was slurred. Don was losing it. Megan opened the cubicle and they both pulled Don out from the ground and lay him on his side in the recovery position on the floor outside the stall.

"Don, the paramedics will be here soon so just relax." Colby reassured himself as well as Don. Megan looked at Colby with great concern.

"Don, try to stay with us OK."

"Reeves. Men's room? Pervert." Laughter and tears filled Megan at the same time. Glad Don was still with them but distraught at his rapid decline. _This is not simply shock._

"Don, just in case…in case the paramedics ask. We need to know," she gulped, "was there anything we know should about your check up the other day. Any indication that there was something wrong. Something you didn't want to worry us with?"

Don's head had begun to loll about on the cold floor. Sweat making contact slippery. He was fading fast and Megan hoped that he had enough in him to respond.

It was so faint, only Colby picked it up as his head was closer to Don's. "Tumour." Colby mouthed the response for Megan.

They both looked at each other. They were NOT expecting that response.

"Deserve it."

At this point, Megan's heart broke. So much pain, how long had he kept this to himself? She suspected her and Colby were the first to hear this news. Colby reached out to Don and touched him on his forehead. Don was so hot Colby almost removed his hand instantly but knew better than to startle the guy. He whispered to Megan, "I don't think that's the problem at the moment. He's burning up."

Megan nodded and then reached out to Don herself. His breathing had shallowed and he no longer seemed to be with them. He felt like a weight under her touch and no response ever came when she asked, "Hey Don, you still with us."

Colby pressed his fingers into Don's throat and checked his pulse under the concern of Megan's eyes. "Boy, that's working overtime."

Megan didn't get a chance to respond as David burst through the doors with 2 paramedics. They set their equipment on the ground and Colby and Megan walked away from their boss. All three agents huddled together and watched as the paramedics began doing what they do best.

"How long has he been like this?"


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N not entirely happy with this chapter but hospital waiting room scenes are not my favorite. Have posted it anyway as it is a necessary evil. Hope it doesn't dissapoint too much. Next chapter will be better and hopefully not too far away._**

* * *

"Hey Dad?"

No response.

Sweet relief. Charlie had half expected to come home to Alan and Millie engaged in some outlandish pursuit. They were truly like teens. Sure, if it wasn't Millie, he would have found it amusing, but as it was it bugged Charlie.

He threw his satchel on the dining table, grateful for the afternoon off from any work. _Wonder how Don went with the case._ Charlie went to the fridge and pulled out the ingredients for a sandwich.

Once his creation was finished he sauntered back in to the living space and dialled Don's cell.

After what seemed like a long time the cell finally picked up.

"Hey Charlie."

This was not how Don answered his cell, nor was he a woman.

"Megan?"

"Yeah. Glad you called, we've been trying you for about half an hour."

Charlie looked down at his pocket and pulled out his phone. It was still switched off from class. _Oh yeah._

"Sorry Megan, my cell's off. Still what are you doing answering Don's cell?"

The pause in response from Megan went unnoticed by Charlie.

"Charlie I'm at the hospital. Don's here. Now he's Ok but we've been trying to call you and Alan for half an hour and we haven't been able to get hold of either of you."

Charlie was shocked in to silence.

"Charlie? Did you hear what I said?"

"Hospital? If Don's Ok why is he in hospital."

"Charlie, he collapsed at work today. They only brought him in half an hour ago, we don't know all the details. You should come down here, they'll let you know more than us."

"Oh my god. Don? Dad? Is this because of the door?"

"Listen Charlie, I've gotta go back inside. Just, can you come down and let your father know. We don't know what's wrong with him."

"Megan what's going on?"

"Charlie I HAVE to go now, please hurry down to Grace Memorial. Ok.."

The line went dead. He wasn't sure but he felt like Megan was holding back something. _Don collapsed. _

For a moment he could only stand there, motionless. Don was the tough guy, which meant he never showed how much things affected him. How could he be sick and not let on to his family. Charlie couldn't understand this about Don. He knew it stemmed from the fact he was independent and didn't like fussing, but Charlie, well when Charlie was sick everyone knew. _Dad._

Remembering that Megan said she couldn't get hold of Alan, Charlie tried his cell. It went to voicemail. He left a brief message saying he'd meet him at the hospital when he got this message. Then he had a thought.

"Hello?"

"Millie. It's Professor Eppes. Um, look, this may seem strange but…is my dad with you?"

"Hey Charlie, actually yes. I'll pop him on."

Charlie could hear the rustling and the faint explanation of who was on the line.

"Charlie?"

"Dad."

It was all he could get out.

"Charlie, what is it?"

"Um, Megan called. Why isn't your phone on?"

"Charlie WHAT is it?" Alan's patience was being tested and Charlie's

"Don's in hospital. I don't have any details. I'm heading there now."

It was Alan's turn to be silent.

"Dad?"

"What hospital? I'll meet you there."

* * *

"Hey Megan. What's the deal?" David asked as he entered the hospital waiting room. Megan had headed off to the hospital with Don while David and Colby finished up at the scene in the FBI building. Paperwork filed they both headed out to the hospital to check on Don.

"Nothing. They're still checking him out. It's taking forever. Apparently they are trying to track down the progress of his previous tests."

"Right." David was apprehensive about what this meant. Colby had explained that Don had mentioned a tumour before the paramedics arrived. They'd only taken a few minutes to assess his condition before a gurney was brought in and Don was wheeled out. David took comfort in the fact that Don had regained consciousness when he was loaded into the ambulance. "And what about the Eppes? Did you get hold of them?"

"Yeah, eventually Charlie called Don's cell. I'm hoping he can get hold of Alan. Hey Colby. What's up with you?"

Colby appeared in the waiting room, tie asunder and looking like he needed a drink. "Paperwork Reeves. Do you even know what that is? Cos I've never seen you near any."

"Jealousy Granger."

* * *

"Agent Eppes? Agent Eppes? I need to ask you a few more questions and then we can get you some rest."

Don's eyelashes fluttered in the direction of the doctor. It had been so hard to remain awake. Every muscle ached, his head throbbed, the nausea was ever present and they'd given him nothing but prods and pokes.

"Sure."

"Great. Looking at your report you came in on Sunday evening after you had fainted in the field. There was a CT scan booked in. Have you had that?"

"No. Tomorrow morning."

"Right, and have you had the results of your blood tests yet?"

"No. End of week. I think."

"That's fine. Thanks. We'll check out what's happening with those tests and see if we can rush them through."

Don stared back at the doctor. He was bone weary and this examination never ended. All these questions he expected them to already know but he understood that double checking could never hurt.

The doctor checked Don's pupils again and the inside of his ears. She noted his heart rate had come down on his chart. His breathing had evened out but his temperature was still a concern. She suspected what the problem was and couldn't understand why it wasn't picked up on the initial examination. Now this agent had worsened his condition clearly from exhaustion. He was dehydrated and his body was shutting itself down in one hell of an attempt to get this guy to slow down.

"Agent Eppes, I'm just going to take some more blood as a back up and then we can get you in a room for some rest. Something you seemed to have been neglecting lately. I'll let the admin staff know what room you'll be in for that CT scan in the morning."

Don simply raised an eyebrow in response.

"I think I know what the problem is, but I need to hunt down those tests to be sure. And we need to have that scan in the morning just to be sure. You're staying in overnight at any rate. Do you need me to call someone?"

"My father. Brother. Maybe my team called them? Don't know." _Please let me be asleep when they get here._

"Ok." The doctor turned to one of the nurses who had just finished taking a sample of Don's blood. "Stacey can you check with Agent Eppes' team out there to see if his family has been called."

Don let his eye slip shut for a second as a bout of nausea welled up in him. His face contorted only slightly but the doctor noticed.

"We can give you something for that." She patted him on the leg and continued, "I think we can let you sleep now."

She checked the IV lines, gave one of the nurses a list of drugs and their doses for them to administer and then she turned back to Don. "I'll see you in the morning. With some answers I hope."

"Tumour?"

The doctor was confused by his question but put it down to the fatigue and drugs. Honestly she was surprised he had been this lucid considering he had been in and out of consciousness for a brief period earlier.

"We'll talk in the morning."

"Wait. My family. No details. Please."

The doctor nodded and left the room.

Don let his eyes fall shut for the last time. He wasn't opening them again for a long while. He thought about how glad he was of the physical pain he was in, the fuzzy feeling the drugs were beginning to have over him and the utter distraction from the noise his mind had been creating. For now, nothing else mattered but sleep and respite from the world and the responsibilities it brought.

* * *

"Megan. What's going on?"

Alan's entrance was swift and caught all three agents by surprise. They had been slumped in the chairs waiting for something. The time had ticked away tirelessly. In their minds Don was either getting the very best treatment or they had forgotten about them. Megan stood up when Alan arrived.

"Alan. We don't know. We're waiting."

"What happened to bring him here."

This is what they had dreaded. They weren't sure what Don had told his family, if anything and it was difficult to know what to say. The shooting itself may or may not have been relevant but they weren't able to give out too many details of what went down for various reasons. This was going to be difficult.

"He collapsed. I'm not entirely sure what happened. There was an incident in the office, we thought Don was in shock but I don't know. I just don't know. I'm not a doctor. He wasn't too good and then he passed out briefly. That's all I know."

"Oh god." Alan pressed his hands into his face and fell down into a chair beside David. David placed a hand on his back but said nothing. "Does this," he could barely get this out, "do you think this is related to the other night. When I knocked him over?"

David looked towards Megan and decided to answer. "Alan, we really don't know what's going on. I don't think Don does either if that helps. I mean he was checked out only days ago so we just didn't expect this."

Alan's face sprung up and he stared David down. "What do you mean? Checked out?"

David licked his lips and gazed to Megan and Colby for support. _Oh. _There was no return now. "After Sunday night. He fainted at a scene. It was all by the book. I don't think he'd been fine all day."

"What are you telling me David? That my son has been ill for days and now he's in hospital. I thought you people looked after each other. How could it come to this?"

David paled and had no response, he hung his head and let Alan's rage simmer. Megan jumped in, Alan had a right to be angry but not at them. "That's not fair Alan. Using that logic I can blame you and Charlie. You're family, you're supposed to look after each other too? Come on, I don't believe that and neither do you. This is all on Don. He chose to tell us what he wanted to and nothing more."

Alan nodded in shame, she was right. _But what does she me '…and nothing more'_.

Charlie finally arrived as Alan was still shaking his head. "Dad. Is he alright?"

"Charlie. I don't know. They haven't been told. I'll check with the desk." He was about to rise as Charlie came to help his father up, but then he stopped. "What do you mean, he told you what he wanted to and nothing more Megan. What aren't you telling me?"

Charlie looked confused as he searched both Megan and Alan's faces. Both were displaying pain on their faces and Charlie was already feeling uneasy about the situation.

"Alan, he didn't tell me till just before he passed out. None of us knew. That's a question you need to ask Don. It's his choice. But please," she pressed her hands in to his, "please ask. I think he's keeping it from you because he doesn't want to burden you. Lately he's been carrying around a lot. He needs you guys more than ever. He's not going to want to open up but I think you should try." She looked straight in to Alan's eyes to make sure he understood. "And you didn't hear that from me." A faint smile escaped her lips.

Charlie felt lightheaded himself and searched for a chair. His actions betrayed his words. "I'll check Don's status."

Colby would have laughed in any other circumstance. He was about to offer to check for him when the doctor walked in.

"Eppes?"

"Yes." Alan stood up so fast he created a cool wind around him.

"You're his father?"

Alan nodded.

"Right. We're keeping him in overnight. You can see him shortly but he'll most likely be asleep. Other than that I can't provide you with any more details."

"What? What do you mean? Don't you have any idea what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. His medical information is not available to anyone. Not even family. It was his request. That's something you'll have to take up with him in the morning. I'm sorry. Reception will be able to tell you what room he's been moved to in about ten minutes."

As quickly as she came, the doctor was gone and Alan was left standing in quiet anger. Charlie stood up and placed his hand on his father's shoulder. "You know Don."

"Yes I know Don." There was no hiding Alan's anger this time. "I'm sorry Megan but I want to know what he said to you and I want to know now! He has never done this before. What's he hiding?"

Megan gulped. Tears were only just being kept at bay. In a way she understood what Don was doing. She didn't agree but she understood. She knew he would think it would break his father to think he had cancer. To lose a wife and son. He wouldn't want to put his father through that. Either Don wasn't sure about this or he was absolutely certain and both scenarios were short term solutions in her mind. If Don was certain and he had to undergo treatment, then his father would eventually know. Megan knew she shouldn't but she also knew Don shouldn't have kept this from his family. In his interest, in an effort to do what was best for Don, and not what Don thought was best for his family, she relented.

"Cancer."

Charlie and Alan simply stared at Megan.

"I don't think he meant to tell us, he wasn't exactly lucid at the time. I asked him if there was anything that we should know, that he was hiding, from his check-up the other night. He whispered 'tumour'. That's all I know. I guess he didn't want any of us to worry. Or maybe it was simply the ranting of a semi-conscious man. But I think you need to get him to tell you this. Please. Beat him at his own this time. Get him to tell you, if anyone can, you can Alan."


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N I know I know people, but I have a reason for everything, I know exactly where I am going in the story, so some of the things you think are inaccurate are actually deliberate and planned….think this chapter will make it blatantly obvious…there is always a higher reason. Apologies for the delay...time is a rarity in the last few days and I am suspecting it will be for a while.**_

* * *

Pale, apart from the colour from the bruise, silent, perhaps troubled, but mainly peaceful. Don looked liked all these things to Alan as he lay asleep on the hospital bed.

"What do you expect? It's Don."

Alan turned his head and looked at Charlie. His words had seemed calm and rational, and normally they'd be coming from Alan. Working with Don had given Charlie so much and his ability to handle and cope with what life delivered now seemed to surpass Don's. Then again, Alan had always felt Don's way of handling life was not good for him. Margaret was like this, she didn't want others to be bothered with her pain. He and Charlie felt alive when they bothered. He and Charlie. Maybe that was the problem. Alan had Charlie, someone who shared enough characteristics to understand. While Charlie really struggled over Margaret's death it was Don who actually was the worse for it really. His mirror was gone. Sure, when she'd left for Princeton with Charlie he'd kind of lost her, but Don was at college and he was young, he didn't need her at that stage.

"I know Charlie. I know. Doesn't stop me wanting to help him though."

"Me too."

"Come on. Let's go. He's not going to be awake till tomorrow. Somehow I think we'll need more sleep than he does then."

Charlie looked down at one last time on the peaceful figure of his brother. A slight sweat on his brow and an unusually pale colouring the only indications anything was wrong, if you ignored the lines of saline being flushed into his body to rehydrate him. _Let him rest._ Charlie and Alan both left the room silently. Charlie's mind wondered if all this work and effort Don put in to his job was really worth it. _It's a big sacrifice._ Of course Charlie understood, he'd sacrificed a lot to be where he was. He could never get his childhood back but you only live in the present and his present was pretty damn good these days. Don's present seemed to be very black.

* * *

"Honestly Megan, I'm not condoning Don's decision but that doesn't make what you did right."

The boys seemed mad. _Time like this you need another woman in the department. _Men were so black and white sometimes. _Not Don though_. They couldn't see the bigger picture.

"David. Ignoring the fact Don will probably have no recollection of what he said from his state of delirium. Ignoring that altogether. His most worrying comment wasn't 'tumour'. Think about it, what worries me the most is his comment, 'deserve it'. After the shooting, Don shut down. He's so experienced and we know it's gotta be hard for him to be responsible for so many people but he's done it for so long we know he's good at it and we take it for granted. Doesn't mean he's been good at dealing with it. He's been depressed for months. I've wanted to help him but there's never been an opportunity. He's not easy to help. You know, I think the only person who can help him is Alan, he's the only person who Don doesn't have to put his game face on for, at least not all the time. Telling Alan that Don may have cancer…well in the end, it gets Don help. And from an FBI point of view, if he doesn't soon then he won't be working here for much longer. No matter what, you can't have an agent in the field who is so close to burning out. It's not just his life he's risking. It's mine. It's yours. I had to do it."

Colby and David let the words sink in. She was right, he needed help, it was the right thing to do. The FBI would certainly be questioning what happened after the shooting as it was, his medical condition could only explain so much. Still, the machismo in them felt it was wrong. Their heads agreed, their hearts didn't. With Don out of action Megan did have the right to make such a decision. Besides, she was right, Don was the one who admitted it, there was no obligation from them that this must remain secret. It was only their unspoken understanding of how he is that they shouldn't. The same unspoken understanding that meant he wouldn't seek help for his depression.

All three were still silent and pondering the conversation when Charlie and Alan walked back out. They seemed tired but not distressed, which was reassuring.

"He's asleep. You can go in but you won't be getting anything out of him till the morning. He's ok for now." Charlie attempted a smile. There was nothing anyone could do till the morning on any front.

"Thanks Charlie. You guys get some rest. We'll just head off I think. Just wanted to make sure he's ok, well you know.," she attempted a smile. "Anyway let us know in the morning how he's going." Megan stood up, then David and Colby followed her lead. All five left the hospital together. All the faces were deep in thought.

* * *

"And that's all done. Your doctor will talk you through all your results once you're back in your room."

The nurse smiled at Don, it was her professional manner, nothing more. Don knew it all too well. A nurse couldn't afford to get too attached to her patients, the pain would be too much to bear when you looked at how many of them would die, or worse, be incapacitated for life.

When Don had woken up in the hospital he had been disorientated. How had he gotten there? He wasn't sure. The last thing he remembered was shooting Max Thorne. Anything beyond that his brain was not relinquishing. Still, he was utterly exhausted. His body ached, he still felt sick and lying down was the only position he wanted to be in. When the nurses came for the CT scan the entire event was painful. The scan itself was fine, it was the getting up, moving around and return of that all-suffocating unwell feeling.

Back in his room, he concentrated on not vomiting. If he hadn't been so tired, he would have asked questions about what was going on. As it was, he was so exhausted he just didn't care. All he knew was something had happened. _Oh god, Dad and Charlie!_

The nurse was just about to leave having set Don up in his room when he reached out and touched her arm. "My family?"

"Sorry?"

"Someone…needs…" _Woah what's spinning?. _"…needs to call…family.'

"Oh. It's Ok. I think they have. I'll double check with the admin staff. You came in last night so I think they probably came then. Word is you were dead to the world."

"Great." All the scarcasm of that comment was lost in the pathetic whisper that was Don's voice. _Great choice of words. _

And then it hit him. He may have a tumour. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it and now that he was ill, ironically it had distracted him. _Is this part of the symptoms? _The tonne of bricks he'd hidden in the back of his mind came crashing down and descended upon his person. His body sunk into the bed, hoped it would swallow him. Despite his retreat from the world he hoped for one thing, _one thing. _If there was anything he could do, if he did indeed have a tumour, his last act would be to protect his family. To protect them from sharing his pain. When she came back in he would tell the nurse not to release any information about his medical state to anyone. _No one. _No one understood his pain. In a way he welcomed the thought of the end coming, it would stop all the pain. He'd done his job, he'd protected and served but _god _he'd killed. Only people in war would understand, other than his colleagues of course. Still he had been in the game a long time, it was his job to decide who lived or died as the team leader and so the hit count lay with him. Only a few other agents understood.

* * *

Don simply lay there, staring. Alan was concerned. Charlie was concerned. He still looked ill but he was awake. They'd been happy when they first walked in the room but Don didn't seem to be there when they approached. His face was blank. Both men's hearts were breaking and aching to help Don but they had no idea what to do.

"Don, please." Charlie pressed Don's shoulder for a second time, trying to grab his attention.

It worked. Don blinked. He had been so far away with his thoughts he hadn't noticed his dad and brother were in the room with him. It scared him and he shook in fright for a split second.

"Sorry bro." Charlie smiled. Glad he'd gotten through.

Alan leaned over the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Don licked his dry lips. _What do I say?_

Alan must have read his mind as he said, "The truth this time."

"Sorry." Don felt bad. He didn't need to feel guilty about what he was doing to his family. He didn't think he could handle adding that to his load. He couldn't look his father or brother in the eye after that.

"Oh Don. Don't do this. Don't shut us out."

Alan's words didn't break his resolve. He couldn't do this. They couldn't know what he couldn't do. He shook his head. "I can't do this now." His eyes glanced across and caught Charlie's forlorn figure. _I can't carry your burden this time buddy. I can't help. _

"Don…" Charlie wasn't able to finish his sentence as the doctor from the evening before entered the room.

"Agent Eppes." She acknowledged Charlie and Alan with a nod. Don looked at her wondering who she was. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room now. I need to discuss Agent Eppes' test results. I'll come and get you when we're done." Alan was about to say something but Charlie grabbed his arm and marched him out of the room. Part of it was his own anger and the other part was knowing that the sooner he did this the sooner they'd be back in with Don, and that time there'd be no distractions.

With his family gone the doctor motioned to Don if she could sit in the chair. He nodded.

"Agent Eppes do you remember me from last night?"

"No. Sorry."

"It's Ok, I thought you mightn't. You were running a dangerously high temperature and I'm surprised you were even conscious with the rate of dehydration. You know your brain needs water to function. Just like your body. I don't know how you can be a good agent when you are so dehydrated you can't think. In a way you're lucky you have this infection, it got you to slow down."

"Infection?" Don's eyes were more confused than ever and the doctor was worried about how coherent he was now. She picked up his chart and quickly checked his stats. _No, the fever is definitely down._

"Yes. Infection. You have Labyrinthitis. You haven't been well for a while now. I don't understand why you were working. It's a viral infection. It affects the middle ear so that is why you were experiencing dizziness and nausea. It creates a fever and we should discuss some of the other symptoms, depression and anxiety. Actually I am going to need to discuss with you your last visit as this should have been picked up on your initial examination. It would have been an easy conclusion. Still we can't blame the doctor always can we. You were ill and you should never have been working so hard. A reaction as severe as you had is only a result of pushing your body beyond its limits."

Don was silenced. He wasn't sure he was hearing right.

The doctor waived some paperwork at him. "These blood tests confirmed it. I suspected it last night but I wanted to wait until we had these results back."

"But the CT scan? The other doctor. He said maybe. Maybe. Tumour."

The doctor's eyes softened. She saw Don's pain. _Hell the guy would be depressed right. Wait, detach. Detach. _"That's right. You said something last night. I thought it was the fever talking. Look, the CT scan was a precaution, we have to make sure there is no underlying causes that could also be lurking. But you're fine. Your CT scan was normal. Even with that bruise on your forehead. Someone with your family history would automatically be checked out as a precaution. He didn't say you actually had a tumour did he?"

Don's eyes creased, he looked up at the doctor. He wasn't sure he was right in what he was hearing. "No. He said it was unlikely."

"Good. Well. You are going to be in bed for a week. Minimum. I'll prescribe the antibiotics for you. Do you have someone to look after you? You won't be able to be alone. You'll need help. It'll be 3 weeks before you are back at work. Again minimum. You've done a lot of damage to your body agent that could have been avoided. I'm signing your release papers but I don't expect to see you back in here any time soon. Ok. Also I'd like you to see someone as a precaution too. A psychiatrist. You will probably experience depression and anxiety over this if you haven't already. Your family haven't been told of your condition and we respect your decision but I would strongly recommend you talk to someone. Family makes sense. They're the cheapest." she smiled.

Don nodded, he wasn't really listening. His mind was fogged. There was no tumour. No cancer. No death. _Why does this feel worse? _It was then he realised how much he had hoped he would die. He'd clung to the idea, clung to the notion of release. _It's not my time.

* * *

Alan and Charlie came back in the room. Don was pathetically trying to get dressed. Charlie rushed to help him._

"Back off. I don't need help."

"Sorry." Charlie was hurt by the outburst but didn't show it. It was Don after all.

"What did the doctor say?" Alan blurted out. He was getting the information out of Don if he liked it or not.

"You can save the interrogation. I'm fine. Bed rest for a week. I have a viral infection. I'm fine." The fact he was swaying as he tried to put his shirt on betrayed his words.

"Yeah you sure look fine. You collapse at work, get transported to hospital and you're fine. Glad you're invincible Agent Eppes because I'm not and you took ten years off my life last night."

"I don't need this dad. I don't need the guilt trip." Don paused. After berating his dad he then needed to tell him he'd have to stay at their place. _God I hate this. Better get it over with. _"Bed rest. A week. Can I stay at yours? Charlie?"

While Don looked down at the wheelchair he'd have to be pushed out with, Alan and Charlie beamed.


	10. Chapter 10

"Are you going to ask him?"

"Charlie, relax, when the time's right."

"If you don't ask him I am going up there and asking him."

"Charlie relax."

"Right now!"

Alan just looked at Charlie across the table, this exchange would have been humorous if it wasn't for the reason. Alan had to smile a little in his mind.

"Fine then, go up there and wake your brother up and ask him."

Defeated, Charlie looked back at his father in mock betrayal.

"He IS sleeping in my bed while I get the sofa."

"It IS your house and his old room IS full of YOUR work on his old single bed. Kick him out if you want."

"I don't know why I bother. It's like you don't want him to tell us."

The conversation had turned serious and Alan leant forward on the table to respond to Charlie.

"More than anything I want him to tell us. I wanted your mother to tell us. They're just not people that find it easy to ask for help Charlie. It's not something you can change anymore than you can change your ability to do math in your head. It's just there. We accept it and we learn tricks to deal with it."

"Oh really, and what tricks did you learn to deal with me."

"Well, that's a different matter," Alan got up from the table with his coffee cup, ready to head in to the kitchen for a refill, "you I can always just ask because you can't keep anything a secret."

Charlie was slightly offended by this, well, as offended as you can be to the truth.

"So, if you think that I'm an open book then I'm the perfect person to keep secrets because you never suspect me."

"Do you have any secrets at the moment Charlie?" Alan's body was halfway through the door to the kitchen.

"Well, no, but if I did I wouldn't tell you."

"Right, like you just didn't tell me you didn't have any, before you told me you wouldn't tell me?"

Charlie's mouth lay open ready to respond in protest but he was still trying to work out exactly what his father had just said, and why he felt he had walked in to that one.

* * *

Sweat stained the pillow and added to the discomfort from inactivity Don was feeling. He was hot and smelly and the drugs he was taking made him feel fuzzy, on top of the ever present dizziness and nausea that lurked just below the surface. Every time he closed his eyes Max Thorne's face bore into him, telling him he was just the same, a killer, a murderer. He was depressed, but he wasn't ready to admit that to himself just yet.

Charlie had given up his bed. He'd be sleeping on the sofa for a week, for Don. He wasn't happy about the arrangement but there wasn't much he could do. An incredible blackness was enveloping him and he just didn't feel like protesting anything anymore. Don was sinking further and further down into misery and he had no control over it. With no control over his thoughts or feelings he felt like a naked target. Alan or Charlie could push the wrong button and he'd break and then he'd spend more time despairing over his armour cracking.

He kept his shield up not for other people, it was for himself. They'd often say at Quantico that it was tough and how few people understood. It wasn't until he was in the field that he understood the meaning for himself. He could unload to Charlie or Alan, despite it not being in his nature, but that wouldn't actually help him. He'd be worried about them feeling bad for him, or judging him and yet they wouldn't be able to understand exactly where he was coming from. They could sympathise, but they could never empathise.

Heck, his father had been arrested at protest marches, how could he understand the reasoning behind having to kill someone. To have that on your conscience. To know every day that you are a killer. Max Thorne's words came back at regular intervals during his waking moments also to haunt him. Truly, what was the difference between himself and Max? Between himself and many other perps? They were all killers. What made him any different? Take away the badge and what right did he have to take a life? Of all the criminals he'd sometimes wished they had no right to live, he now felt he had no right to live.

These thoughts jumped around in his head pulling him away from restless sleep to restless sleep. He was a prisoner in his own mind and body, and a prisoner in his brother's home.

_Knock._

Don's head turned towards the door. "Mm."

The door creaked open disjointedly, his father was balancing a tray of soup and trying to navigate his way through the door. It was instinctual for Don to try and get up and help him but the movement from the bed was quickly halted as the spinning dug its claws in.

"Don't even think about it. Just sit back."

Don gave his father 'a look' and smoothed the sheets back down while his father finally made it through the door to his bedside.

"Charlie wanted chilli but I didn't think that was such a good idea for someone running a fever . It's soup I'm afraid."

"Thanks. Not really hungry though."

"Don't really care, you have to eat. Doctor's orders."

"You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Actually yes." Alan looked down at his son. He'd looked better but he was too old to be coddled. _More's the shame._ He leant on the edge of the bed and placed the tray in front of Don.

"Are you going to sit here and watch?"

"Gotta make sure you make an attempt at eating, beside you can't be enjoying being stuck up in a room all by yourself all day. Expect you'd enjoy the company." He raised an eyebrow indicating this wasn't negotiable.

"From FBI agent to four year old in a matter of days." Don spoke through sips of soup which was great for keeping his emotions at bay.

"Well maybe I should make this even more painful. Then you'll think twice about getting this run down. Of course I can only take your word for it considering the doctor wouldn't tell us anything." Alan's words were strained. He ached for Don to tell him about his tumour but he couldn't risk alienating him at the same time. _Gently prod, gently prod._ Until he heard the words from Don's mouth he wasn't prepared to think about the situation. It's like a person missing, until you know they're found you have to assume they're alive. Something Charlie once said about a cat in a box reminded him of this situation. Don was both midly ill and terminally ill to Alan at this moment. He didn't know which way to think but he was trying his best to be normal. _Please speak to me son._

Don avoided the conversation his dad seemed to be pitching for, the one about why he didn't want the doctor to speak to his family. He knew it hurt them but at the time he was trying to protect them and now, now there was no need but it seemed too late. It took too much effort for Don to explain. "Yeah cos I am the notorious one for not looking after myself. Old Chuckles down there has been a shining light in that department."

"Yeah, well I can blame your mother on that front. It's a characteristic you both share with her, that and your stubbornness."

"Oh yeah, methinks the lady doth protest too much."

Looking at his half eaten bowl and then up to Don's exhausted features Alan sighed. The conversation wasn't going to happen this time. He patted Don on the leg and began to take the tray. "Finished?"

"Yeah thanks." Don closed his eyes for a second. The conversation had exhausted him but he wasn't exactly looking forward to being alone again either. "And Dad."

Alan's heart skipped a beat. "Yes?"

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." _Damn._ Alan continued to make his way out the door shrugging off any thoughts that what he was doing was out of the ordinary, Don should know that by now.

* * *

Amita was doing all the typing, Charlie was frantically trying to find the paperwork.

"It was here a second ago."

"Then it's still here Charlie."

"You sure you didn't move it?"

"No. Where could I have taken it, I've been sitting here for the last half hour with you, what kind of super powers do you actually think I have?"

"Well I don't know, but I am suspicious." Charlie continued turning papers over until suddenly under one particularly messy pile he recognised a familiar page. "Ah, here it is, told you."

"Hmm." Amita just smirked at Charlie, she knew that was his way of apologising.

"OK. So, how does it look?"

"Charlie, same as every other time. There's just not enough information."

_Knock knock._

Amita and Charlie's head turned towards the front door and they stared.

_Knock knock._

Still staring, Alan came out from the kitchen to answer the door. Noticing Amita and Charlie sitting there he shook his head. "It's a door Charlie, when people knock you answer it. You're gonna have to learn that soon, I am not your butler here."

Alan opened the door and offered a warm greeting to the person on the other side.

Amita and Charlie noticed the svelte figure of Megan Reeves entering the house.

"Hey Charlie, Hey Amita. How are you?"

"Hey Megan." They both said in unison.

"So, I guess you are here to see Don then?" Alan asked.

"Yeah, I was in the area and just thought I'd drop by and say hi, see how you all were getting along. I can't imagine he's been the easiest of patients. Plus," Megan quietly added, "I do need to ask him a few questions about the incident at work. I waited as long as I could. I'm sorry."

"You got that right, about the easiest of patients I mean. Not about you should be sorry."

"So," Megan looked sheepishly at Alan and whispered her next question, "have you had a chance to talk?"

Alan placed his hand on Megan's back and led her to near the staircase and out of Charlie and Amita's earshot. "No, I just don't want to push it and have him not talk at all. He still looks so ill, of course he would be but I just can't bear to think about it till he tells us. It's killing me, I have no idea what it's doing to Charlie. I just don't know what to do."

"I know."

"It's not the same though Megan."

"No of course not, still we are his friends, we are his colleagues, we actually see more of him than you do, at the very least it's not any easier on us. We do tend to notice when something's not right. He hasn't been 100 percent Don for a while now, I'm sure I'm not telling you anything new but maybe this is the reason for it. Until he is ready to share this with other people then I can't see him changing. I guess he's so used to being the protector that he is doing just that."

"Well he's not protecting his family he's hurting them."

"I never said he was right, Alan."

Megan's smile melted Alan. Maybe her visit could spark something. She was right, she saw more of Don than Alan did. Even Charlie saw Don more than Alan did. None of them knew him better than Alan but they certainly got the time with him that soon Alan thought he would wish he'd had. The same way he'd wished he'd met Margaret 2 years before he did, that they hadn't spent those years at Princeton fighting and readjusting to what they wanted out of life. When it came down to it, all they wanted was each other. _Family._ Don was part of that but he'd always been on the outer and Alan knew this grief would bring up all these awful regrets.

"Alan?" Megan was still standing at the base of the stairs with Alan deep in thought.

"Sorry Megan."

"It's Ok, I'll go up and check on him. You should probably take me up, don't think he'd appreciate me just barging in. You need to ask if he's up to it. If that's Ok."

"Oh of course, of course."

* * *

One hand was bolted to the bed, legs dangling over the side. The other hand was pushing against his forehead in a symbolic gesture to stop the room from spinning. His heart rate had accelerated at the sudden exercise, making Don feel anxious as to how badly he had indeed treated his body. _You can think you're fit and one little virus, one little virus can…_

He needed the toilet and he didn't want to ask anyone to help him there. He simply couldn't bear it. Alan was probably entertaining Millie and Charlie was no doubt trying to sneak a private moment with Amita, and here he was, a useless lump sapping all their energy and time. One foot delicately touched the hardwood floor. The coolness was welcomed. Another second and the next foot was on the floor. One hand still glued to the bed Don stared at the door in an effort to focus. He was only a few more steps away from relieving himself and then he could go back to…_hmm to what? _

Finally he unglued his hand from the bed and attempted to walk the few short steps to the door. The room was really starting to spin, sweat was pouring down his face and his heart rate was making him think he was running a marathon. His breaths became quicker as he reached for the door. He had to make it but he wasn't sure if he was going to. _You are so pathetic Eppes. You can't even walk 4 steps to a door!_

He would have tried another step but his breathing had started to make him hyperventilate and Don was having trouble seeing straight. His head was spinning now, not the room, and his vision was fading out. He almost made it to the door lintel when it swung open hitting him in the head.

"Don? Oh my god Donnie." Alan couldn't believe it. It was déjà vu! Don's exhausted body lay on the floor clutching his forehead. "Are you alright? Oh god."

Don didn't respond instantly. He was too busy laughing to himself. Gradually the laughter became audible.

"Don Eppes? Are you laughing?" Alan's tone was of shock and bewilderment.

"Sorry dad, I'm beginning to think you are out to kill me."

"So am I. What the hell were you doing out of bed?"

Don just looked up at Alan and it was then he noticed Megan. Suddenly the humor of the situation left him and the blackness returned. His exhaustion climbed back up to the surface and for a second he swayed on the ground and his hearing disappeared.

Alan's lips seemed to be mouthing 'Don' but he couldn't be sure. Not till Megan came in and grabbed the opposite arm to what Alan did and they helped him back up to the bed. Alan tried to push Don to lie back on the bed but he was resisting.

Finally, Don's senses returned to good enough working order to let the visitors know what he needed.

"Bathroom!"

"Oh. OK." Alan gave Megan a look to say 'excuse us' and she quickly moved out of the way. "But next time you call me to come and help you. No buts!"

Don sighed, there was no way out this time. He was trapped and at his family's mercy and that made him feel suffocated but he had to get on with it, and that's just what he did, for now.


	11. Chapter 11

"Charlie, you're a genius but this just isn't going to be something you can work out." Amita rested her arm on Charlie's shoulder. They had moved to the garage to continue their work after Megan had arrived. Charlie now sat with his head in his hands on the worn out sofa.

"Amita, don't you understand I HAVE to work this out."

"I do understand Charlie. I understand you more than you think. But this isn't something you have control over. This isn't something Don has control over. There's nothing you can do Charlie." Charlie's dark eyes looked up from his hands into Amita's. "Nothing you can do but be there for him."

"That's the one thing he doesn't seem to want so I have…have to work this out."

"We don't have enough information. Look, if you find out from Don exactly what he has, get a little more data, the only thing you are going to achieve is a little more randomness. This is a person Charlie. You can find out the odds, the statistics, map the probable scenarios but how does that help anyone. There is always a person who outlives a prediction, who doesn't fit the mold. You can predict but you can't know."

"I do know. I know…I know that my mother died from…and, and I know that I can't let that happen to Don. Not Don."

Amita sighed. Charlie was holding it together, he was trying his best to. But he desperately wanted an answer, to find a solution, to find out how to help, what to do. At this moment he seemed just like Don to her.

"I know. I even feel that way too and I'm not family. But Charlie. None of this matters till he's ready to tell you his problem. Isn't that what you should be concentrating on? As far as Don's concerned you just think he has an infection."

"You know Amita, if you don't want to help me fine, but I am doing this. My father has decided he knows best about how to handle Don and everyone just seems to think I need protecting from this. You know I'm the genius in the family and yet why is it everyone is treating me like a kid."

"I'm not Charlie."

"Yes. Yes you are Amita. If we don't have enough data then help me find a way to work with what we've got."

"I can't work miracles Charlie, and neither can you."

Amita had enough, there was nothing more she could until Charlie was ready to listen. With that last comment she picked up her laptop and left the garage. Charlie remained on the sofa feeling utterly helpless.

* * *

Alan was nearly bowled over as Amita rushed past him to the front door. He stepped back and missed hitting her by inches as he was coming down the stairs.

"Sorry Alan." Amita said as she continued on her way out the door.

_Charlie. _Alan took a deep breath and knew he had another son. Another son who would accept his help and by the look of Amita, was in need of some fatherly advice. _Oh Charlie._ He'd left Megan up with Don after he'd helped him to the bathroom. Don had taken a very long time in the bathroom, clearly because he wasn't supposed to be standing up, but he didn't want their help and so Alan had stood outside with Megan. Both of them had shared the same exasperated look. Alan couldn't dwell on his eldest for too long. Charlie was in the garage.

* * *

"Charlie what are you doing?"

Charlie didn't respond. His head remained hidden by his hands on the sofa.

"Charlie!" Alan's voice meant business.

"Dad. I can't help. I can't help anyone."

"Oh Charlie." Alan sat down next to him on the sofa and leant his head back. "I know. I desperately want to help but there's no easy answers. Not everything has a solution. Life isn't like that."

"It should be. It could be."

"Well it isn't right now. You have to remember that this isn't your mother Charlie. We don't have all the facts, we don't know exactly what's going on and until then we can't make any guesses. It's like that cat in a hat thing you told me about once."

"Cat in hat? Oh. Schroedinger's cat. It was a box."

"Yeah, right. It's like that. Until Don is ready to talk we're jumping the gun here. Megan's with him at the moment, I'm hoping he'll be more open with her. Because he may not feel he has to protect her from the pain as much as he does us."

"It's because of mom. Because of how I was. That's why he's doing this."

"No it's not Charlie. It's because of Don. Because of how he is. He's spent so many years looking after himself he just expects that he can always do that. He doesn't realize he can't do that all the time. It's not going to work for him now Charlie. And we…we just have to be here when he does realize that. It's all we can do."

"No it's not, it can't be."

Alan looked at Charlie, his pain was amplified by Charlie's. _If only Don knew what he was doing to him, to us…if only he knew.

* * *

_

"If this is too soon then let me know and I'll come back." Megan stood by Don's bed and waited while he finished pulling the blankets over himself. He was already out of breath and feeling like he'd gone a round with Mike Tyson after his brief trip to the toilet.

"No, no, it's fine." Don reached for the glass of water his father had left beside his bed to help control his breath and let him relax in to the bed and regain his composure.

"Great." Megan looked in to his eyes and hoped. He was looking down on to the bedsheets, avoiding eye contact with her. _Sinking into himself._ Sure she had to discuss some of the details of the incident at the office with him but it wasn't urgent. There were enough witnesses around to not need Don's account. It was merely to wrap up and fill out completely what went on. Megan thought it may be the best way to draw Don out to discuss what was going on deeper.

"So? What do you need?"

"Right. Well.." she had thought this through properly, she knew Don would know they didn't need his statement just yet, she had to make this good. "…well the thing is, David's account is slightly different to mine and that young agent's so we really need your recollection to pad out any inconsistencies."

Don studied Megan's face suspiciously but gave in to the reason. He was happy for the distraction, although she could have timed her entrance better. He wasn't exactly overjoyed that she'd seen her boss on the floor, again.

"Ok. Let's see. And not a word to Colby or David about these pyjamas in that report!" Don attempted a smile, he knew Megan was assessing him as much as anything and knew how to play her game. She returned the smile, she knew how to play his game. "Right, so, look some of the finer details are fuzzy, blame the drugs but after interrogating Max Thorne he became quite agitated. He was turning the tables on us, the FBI, calling me…anyway I'd listened to enough of his crap and I walked out while that young agent walked in."

"Agent Cox."

"Cox. OK. So he walked in and I went to grab my gun off you in the viewing room when I heard a commotion. I came around and saw that Agent Cox had been compromised and was being held hostage by Max Thorne in the interrogation room. You hung back and I tried to talk him down. David must have been coming from the bullpen area and that caught Max's attention. He pulled his gun and looked like he was about to shoot David. I had a clear shot so I took it." _And that makes me a murderer._

Megan looked at how detached Don had been in retelling this, till the end. His voice had faltered slightly. Obviously he'd been sticking to the facts but something had made him think of something more emotional and it crept to the surface. "I'm sorry but you know I have to ask. How long had you been feeling unwell, and do you think that affected your judgment?"

"Look Megan, I had myself checked out, you were there. I felt well enough to come to work, they agreed. I wasn't in the field. I'd never do anything to put you guys in danger." He looked at Megan earnestly. "Ever."

"We know, but clearly that day you were feeling a little under the weather, considering the outcome."

"Yeah. Look honestly, I didn't feel so bad, I was tired, not that unusual, but not so bad, not till…well look I don't remember anything after the shooting so I can't say what I was feeling after that. But up to that point, nothing that would've affected my judgment. Nothing physical."

"Meaning?" Megan latched on to that comment.

"Nothing. Meaning nothing."

Megan looked down at Don. He was started to look worse than when they came in to find him on the floor. He'd spaced out then and now he was looking thoroughly exhausted.

"OK. Well I don't need your statement about after the shooting anyway. David, Colby and my statements all concur on that one. You can read them if you want." This was Megan's way of letting Don know about what he'd told them. They'd all had to put it in their reports. There was no point holding on to that information until he was back in the office, that could be a long way off.

"No thanks."

"You sure?"

"Why? Should I? Is there something in there I should know about?"

"Look Don, if you want to read them the offer's there. All of it you should probably know about but that's your decision."

Don looked intently at Megan. _What is she getting at? _He moved uneasily in the bed. Honestly, he was mildly embarrassed about what he didn't know he had done after the shooting. Clearly he had lost control enough for an ambulance to be called. Clearly he'd been delirious for part of it as he had been so dehydrated. Still, he thought he could quite happily assume no one would mention it and he wouldn't have to be told about any of it.

"I wasn't planning on reading it, so if there's something in it you want me to know Megan just tell me."

"Don." She didn't know how to approach this with him, she had to be so careful not to push him away rather than help him to open up. Don Eppes was a man more closed than open and blowing on that door was more likely to slam it shut rather than wedge it open. "You know they're gonna do a psych test before they let you back. So you don't need to talk to me about what happened but you need to talk to somebody. This case may not have been affecting you any more than any of the other cases but you were affected by it more than the others. There are things in those reports which we know about and you don't know we know. Things that can't remain secrets forever." Megan looked down at Don to measure how he'd taken this monologue. "Maybe you should think about talking to your family about anything that's on your mind because we'll all respect your privacy at work." _God, when he finds out I told Alan he's going to go ballistic. Lucky for me he's still sick enough for me to kick his ass big time._

Don stared back unemotionally at Megan and then averted his eyes. He had no idea what he had said or done. His mind was now racing and this was more disturbing than anything. It could have been a number of things, it could be nothing. This could be Megan's bluff. Still if it was a bluff how would she know he had something to hide. _Because you've been acting like a dick for a while, that's why. She's a damn profiler, what do you expect? _

Megan got up to leave. She felt like she hadn't broken through the façade. She'd tried but the door was not opening today. She collected her jacket and opened her mouth to say goodbye.

"He said I was just like him."

Megan was caught off-guard. "What?"

"Max Thorne. He wanted to know what made us any different to him. Why it was OK for us to kill and not him."

Megan didn't say anything. This wasn't what she'd expected or hoped, but it was something. It certainly would explain his depression of late. She understood, she grappled with the same issues.

"I can't talk to my family about that. They don't understand. You know?"

"Yeah, I know. But I don't think you can deal with this on your own. And you certainly can't take serious the words of a murderer."

"Why is he a murderer and not me. I've killed more than him and for no reason, not like he had."

"Because they know this is your job, you protect people, you save people and it's their fault you kill. You aren't killing innocents Don. They are. You don't shoot unless you have to. The difference is you don't want to kill Don. They do.

Don lifted his head from his hands and looked up to Megan. "Are you so sure about that?"


	12. Chapter 12

Megan bumped in to Alan as she flew down the stairs. She was trying to appear collected but Alan could tell something had rattled her.

"What, what did he say? How bad is it?" Alan reached out to grab Megan's arm as he said this.

She looked at him for a second and gauged what she should say. "Nothing. He didn't say anything. We talked about the case that's all. But you should keep trying. I think he's close to opening up." Megan smiled at Alan and put her jacket on to leave the house. Alan was still standing, staring in disbelief at Megan. "Honestly Alan, we just talked about the case. I tried, but today is not the day."

With the last comment she turned and headed out the door. Out of the house. Away from her lie. _White lie._ It wasn't that Don had said anything about his illness but the conversation hadn't exactly ended well – for her. Don's pain over the killings was her pain. She understood exquisitely what he was talking about. Quite frankly, she wasn't prepared to talk to him about it. Every day you buried it down, tried not to focus on it. Every day you knew it was there but you could see the bigger picture, understand the logic of why you had to do what you do. Every day brought you a new argument in your mind to keep you focused. When Don expressed how he felt about Max Thorne's words, she had known it at the time, she had felt it at the time, but her focus was on Don. He had needed help, action was required. She could do that. Now, with every other distraction gone, thinking about it was so much worse. Just that little bit harder to keep down.

Don hadn't said much more. Silence held the agreement, the understanding between them. This was normal. Don's reaction was normal, her reaction was normal. There was nothing more to say. Telling Alan wouldn't help. He could sympathise and try to understand but ultimately both Don and Megan knew, there was nothing that could help. It was something you put up with, not something you shared. Logic was on your side and ultimately you knew that society was. That helped. It was the best you could hope for. To tell Alan would confuse the issue and distract him from the real goal, of getting Don to open up about his illness. That could be normal, probably not healthy and something that sharing could help. Megan had just hoped Alan wouldn't ask too Megan questions and he hadn't. _He's really perceptive. Don's in good hands.

* * *

Alan stared at the door for a few seconds after the wind of Megan had left. __FBI huh._ He knew she would have told him anything he needed to know. Clearly whatever it was that had bothered Megan was something that stayed with the FBI. She would only compromise that if Don needed it. That's the best he could take from the situation.

Alan looked back to the garage where he'd left Charlie and then up the stairs to where Don was. Both his sons needed some time alone. One to rest and one to work things out. _Come to think of it, they could both do both._ He sighed and headed to the kitchen. Don would need to eat again in a few hours and he could make something for then. That was something he could do.

* * *

Charlie stared at his chalkboards. There was nothing on them but chalk dust and useless expressions. He didn't have any answers because he wasn't sure he was asking the right questions. Amita had been right._ Sorry_. Numbers were all around him, he found comfort in them, he found answers in them all the time and this time there was nothing.

There was no Larry to help him through this. Amita would be back. He'd apologize. Still none of them would be able to bring him an answer. _Would they?_ He sighed and snapped his hands down from behind his head. In truth he knew where the answers lay. In truth the answers were lying down themselves. Upstairs. Under blankets and a mask of denial. With Don.

* * *

"Charlie is that you?"

Charlie sighed. He'd hoped to make it upstairs unhindered. "Yeah."

Wiping his hands on his apron Alan came out from the kitchen to see his youngest. "Amita left?"

"Yeah."

"Everything alright? I mean between you two?"

Charlie stared at his father. Sometimes he hated sharing his house with him. "Yes."

"Oh I see. That would explain why she couldn't get out of here fast enough."

"You know Dad, why do you do this?"

"Do what?" Alan looked back at Charlie with an insincere look of surprise on his face.

"This spanish inquisition business. Sometimes I would like the same respect that Don gets. You don't go around asking him these questions. Bugging him like a kid and yet it seems like he needs it more than me. I think I'm doing ok."

"You are Charlie. This isn't an interrogation. I just know you bite back." With that he winked and walked back in to the kitchen.

This was too much for Charlie. How dare his father play him like an open book while Don lay upstairs dying for all they knew and no one was letting him help. He stormed in to the kitchen.

"Why do you do this? Don is lying upstairs, lying to us, lying to himself and no one will do a damn thing about it." He thumped his hand down on the bench while his father continued to stir the pot. "Dad! Look at me." Alan turned around to his son with a smirk on his face. "What the…do you even care? How can you be smirking? Are you delirious? That's it, I'm going upstairs right now and doing something about this."

Alan picked up a bowl and dished some soup in to it as Charlie prepared to storm straight back out again.

"No Charlie. I'm going to go upstairs and do something about this. And thankfully you've just set the stage for how I can do that."

Charlie's mouth hung open as Alan walked beside him and out of the kitchen.

* * *

Megan's visit had unsettled Don. He couldn't sleep. He hadn't expected her to provide any answers for him. Still he hadn't expected her to not really respond. It was that awful understanding silence that hung in the air like when an agent had been killed. It meant no words were necessary because there was nothing you could say to make it right. _Nothing you could do._

He would have loved nothing more than to be able to go to sleep. _Sleep and never have to wake up. Ever. _But sleep wasn't coming. The fever and lack of balance kept enough of life in his thoughts. Only a few more days and this bed rest would not be mandatory but if Don was honest, he really couldn't see how he'd be feeling well enough by then to leave. Already his father and brother had given up enough of their everyday lives for him. He couldn't expect their lives to stop for him. He was now simply a burden for them.

From downstairs he heard his brother and father fighting as if proving his current thoughts right. Not content with needing to be waiting on hand and foot, he'd clearly now upset the dynamics so much he'd added more pressure to the family relationships downstairs. _Great._

The argument ended and the familiar sound of his father's feet climbing the stairs replaced it. _Great, now he's gonna bring it up here._

When the door creaked open, Alan wasn't surprised to see Don staring at him. It was what he hoped.

"Soup. You begin and I'll grab your antibiotics." Alan lay the meal tray on the bedside table next to Don while he went to get his drugs.

Don stared at him. He sensed something was going on but couldn't quite put his finger on it. He shook his head slightly and instantly regretted it. The brief wave of dizziness passed as Don rested his head back on the pillow.

"You alright?" Alan's look of concern was genuine as he walked back in.

"I think I should be asking you that."

"What are you on about?"

"Downstairs. You and Charlie."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sick dad, not deaf. What was that argument all about?"

Alan averted his eyes from his eldest son. "Nothing. Now can I get you something?"

"You already did. Soup. Remember. It didn't sound like nothing." Don spoke through a spoonful of soup to emphasize his words. His mind knew how good this tasted but his tastebuds were refusing to give him any pleasure. He was eating out of expectation, not desire.

"Well it was nothing so just leave it at that."

This piqued Don's attention. His father never acted like this unless he was really affected. And it was hard for anything Charlie and Alan quibbled about to really affect him.

"Fine. I can always ask Charlie." Don knew how to play his father.

Alan looked sternly at his son. "Do that Don and…"

Don furrowed his brow on his father's pause. "And what?"

"And nothing. Just…just leave it." His father got up to leave. To Don he seemed angry and this confused him. _Must have been some fight._

"Dad, come on." Don begged his father, knowing it was his last option for getting Alan to talk.

Alan sighed. His back was turned to Don and his shoulders slumped. He spoke without turning around to look at Don. "Don't do this Don. You need to concentrate on getting better, just drop it."

"No Dad. I'm not going to drop it. How can I get better when I'm worrying about my family falling apart?"

_How indeed?_ Alan turned around and looked at Don. He kept his game face on. It seemed to be working.

"I'm sorting it Don, that's all you need to know."

"Sorting what?" Suddenly a thought occurred to Don. "Charlie?"

"I said I'm sorting it now leave it ok. Get some rest."

"Dad. Just tell me. I'm not going to get any sleep, I'll be thinking the worst."

_Now you know how I feel. _Alan sighed and sat down in the chair next to the bed. He stared at his son as though working out what or how to say what was coming next. "Charlie's." He stopped and looked at Don, who was squirming from the waiting. "I don't know what to do. Charlie's in the garage night and day. He doesn't seem to be seeing Amita much. I don't know how to get through to him and if he keeps it up he'll lose her and maybe his job."

"What are you talking about? What's he doing in the garage."

"Trying to work out how you got sick. Trying to work on his cognitive theory. Everything. Nothing. You scared him y'know. You know we barely have any information about your illness, Charlie thinks you are keeping something from him and he thinks he can work it out. But he can't work it out can he Don?"

"What are you talking about. I told you. I told him. It's an infection. I'm not hiding anything from you." _Nothing physical anyway._

"Well I can tell him that but he doesn't believe me. All this secrecy. And you…"

"Me what?"

"You look really ill. It's been how many days and you still look really sick Don. Charlie's scared. Scared." Alan looked deep into Don's eyes, trying to read his thoughts before he played his final card. "I think this is reminding him of mom."

Don stared straight back at Alan. His thoughts unreadable. Alan held his breath unknowingly. This was where everything was coming down or opening up and he just couldn't tell where it was going.

"You serious? For a genius he can be pretty melodramatic." Don leant back into his pillow. Charlie was flipping out and it was his fault. He needed to do something but he wasn't sure what he could do. It could wait until he was better he supposed, but he wasn't sure how long that would be. He couldn't put his brother through that, _could he?_

"Yes I'm serious Don. And to be honest, I'm not entirely disagreeing with him on that respect. She buried herself in work as a way to escape. She chose to ignore the signals. A few scares here and there were brushed off. Sure this is not the same as with you but it reminds us of then." _Please Don just tell me, I don't know how much more I can take of this game._

Don noticed the slight crack in Alan's voice. Charlie's mental health was now his burden. His dad's mental health was now his burden. He wasn't sure he could deal with this right now but he felt he had no choice. Get them over their problems and he could maybe think about sorting his own thoughts out. Maybe.

"This is nothing like mom. You know that."

"No Don I don't know that. You collapse. You're involved in some mysterious incident at work. You won't talk to us, you won't look after yourself. What do you expect us to think?"

"I don't expect you to think anything. Things have been…" he looked up to Alan. He wasn't sure he was ready to reveal his own mental state to his father. He couldn't burden him, not now Charlie was his first concern. "…look it's just, sometimes, sometimes I can't shut work out. I wasn't really thinking straight at the hospital but I've told you everything I just don't understand why you both can't accept that."

This was too much for Alan. He'd drawn Don out. Don had said some things that he'd hoped he would have shared months ago and Alan wasn't ready to let this moment go. "We can't accept it because we have to reason to believe you haven't."

"Come on. What do you think I am hiding from you? Why?" Don closed his eyes, his body language suggested he knew this wasn't the right way to argue considering his behaviour but his brain hadn't picked up on this just yet.

"Because you always do. I don't know where it comes from. Thinking that you're sparing us. But look at what it's doing to your brother. This is what happens when you shut us out. We suspect the worst. This is what happens when you do that."

"I'm sorry. I can't do this right now. I can't carry all this for both of you. I want to help you both but I can't. I can't do this." Don was clearly distressed now.

Alan was shocked. He had upset Don and he'd never seen him so helpless. His next comment was a wild card. It could destroy his son or perhaps finally let him be helped. He hoped it would be the latter. Alan looked up earnestly into Don's face. "We know Don. We both know. We know about the tumour."

Don stared in utter disbelief and his body was frozen in time. "What?"


	13. Chapter 13

"What the hell are you talking about?" Don breathlessly managed to expel. _How the hell? A fear. It was never tangible. Psychic? Good Guess?_

Don's mind raced. The blackness he'd felt suffocated with before now tightened its grip around him. With the loss of memory from the incident, the loss of control he was feeling in regards to his emotions, he just wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't anymore. Had he told them? _No._

Alan stared intently at Don. He couldn't read his thoughts. _Damn._ He never could. He was ready with the advice, not that he was generally prepared to take it, but until he knew what Don was thinking he was scared. Scared that he had perhaps crossed the line. Hopeful that he could bring Don back if he had. Alan chose silence as the best answer for that question. His eyes bore down on to his son, a questioning look was administered and he hung on to his seat silently waiting for the next outburst.

"Dad?"

Still no response, Alan gulped and exposed his fear to Don. A thought crossed across Don's mind. What was it Megan had said exactly? _Damn these drugs._ She had said something about there being things in her report he should read. Things everyone knew. It didn't make sense. He didn't have a tumour. It couldn't be in there. He'd never told anybody.

His eyes creased into angry slits and he pursed his mouth as he phrased the next question in his mind. This was going to be an interrogation and he wasn't sure his family, or himself, could handle how his FBI techniques would go down. "Are you telling me that someone, a doctor maybe, someone was lax about protocol and actually gave you confidential information? If it was my team I want the name. Now."

Don's anger was surprising for Alan. He hadn't expected it. He hadn't expected for him to break down and cry either, but he hadn't expected such controlled anger. He looked so ill. This could not be good for him. _Maybe I made a big mistake._

Again Alan didn't respond. Preparing a response in his mind seemed to take longer than he would have liked. It wasn't helping matters.

"Dad?" Don began to rise out of the bed. The sudden movement made him a little nauseous and his balance wasn't as quick as his body. He swallowed the dizziness and nausea down and continued to try and sit on the edge of the bed. Alan moved in his chair, subconsciously preparing himself to help Don.

Dark eyes locked on to Alan's, a determination in them that reminded Alan of Don before…_before he was sick._ "I'm going."

That got Alan's attention. Mind readied for speech again, Alan responded, "Don't be ridiculous."

Don continued to get out of the bed. While his demeanor was determined his body was crying out to stop. He managed to stand up and with one hand carrying all his weight on the tallboy, begin to change his top. He was getting out of there. Now it was his turn to be silent.

Alan moved to grab Don's arm to physically stop him and ease him back to bed. He stood little chance normally of being able to exert any physical power over him, and he doubted this time would be any different, but maybe he was weaker than he knew. The thought wasn't appetizing to Alan but he touched his son anyway and was taken aback by the strength Don had to shake him off.

"Don't," finally escaped his lips. For a second they both locked eyes then Don continued to change.

"Don't what Don? Don't do this? Don't care about your family? Every time you do something to hurt yourself you're hurting…look we care about you and…" Alan's eyes averted their stare and he walked away from his son. He didn't want to let go, he didn't want to walk away but he was lost. Don knew he knew and he still wouldn't talk to him about the tumour. Alan felt incredibly lost. It was tough enough to get through to Don, to understand why he held it all in, but he'd accepted it. That's the way he is. He's not comfortable doing it, and he didn't want his son to feel uncomfortable but this…this was destroying everyone.

"And I appreciate you care about me. But you don't know what you are talking about." Don slumped against the tallboy now. Both arms resting on its top. He'd lost the will to change, mainly because his energy was draining quickly. It was getting hard to focus standing up for so long and already his lack of coherency meant he wasn't able to think properly about what was happening.

Alan noticed the slump and grabbed Don's arm again, flinching ever so slightly on the touch out of fear of being rebuked again. He wasn't. "What YOU don't understand Donnie, is that we do. And we do because we care. It's killing us. Charlie."

A sigh from Don hung in the air. "No. You don't know. I'm…" a gulp, slightly unsteady on his feet, "I'm having trouble," he pressed his body further into the tallboy for support. "There is no way you can." His breathing was becoming amplified in his mind. The room, his father, everything was becoming slightly less real, further away. His father's touch and hold on his arm was a good anchor for him but he didn't think it would be enough.

Neither did Alan. He felt Don's composure slacken. _He shouldn't be standing._ Guilt over how this had played out was beginning to plague his mind. "Yes. You're having trouble alright. Bed. Now. We'll finish this later."

With expert gentleness Alan lay Don back on to the bed. Exhaustion and sweat were visible across his face. Don felt so light headed, the bed was welcomed, even in it's current sweaty, lived-in mode. If his mind had been working well enough he would have demanded who told him about the tumour rumour but he couldn't get the energy up to do so. This frustrated and exhausted him even more.

Alan couldn't look Don in the eye. He felt guilty, he knew Don would demand answers again as soon as he was better. He knew it would eat away at him till he did. Alan would be back to clean this up but they both needed time. He needed time to think about how best to tackle the anger and Don needed time to accept his family were now in the picture. He gave him a small crumb to digest to help his state of mind.

"You told us. Your actions. You being you. Your subconscious." Alan raised his eyebrow at Don on the last one in a gesture to indicate that Don had been loose-lipped. His team would certainly be a target if he ever found out it came from them but it was best to bat away the attention from blame back on to Don.

He looked down at his son and couldn't hide the pain he was feeling. Don noted it, then noted that physically he was still a wreck. Desperate to have answers but unable to stir up the energy to continue he closed his eyes.

Don locking the world, and Alan, out of his view was his cue. Alan slowly moved towards the door. Beaten. Never taking his eyes off his son in the bed, Alan reluctantly left the room. The click of the door closing behind almost mocking him.

* * *

At the bottom of the stairs Alan stopped. He body finally saying what he was feeling. Exhausted. Beaten. Uncomprehending.

"What happened?"

Charlie had run over to the stairs the instant he heard the door shut. He'd waited for his father to speak to him as he came down the stairs but he hadn't noticed him. Alan looked up now and remembered he had another son in pain, not sure he could be there for him too. Not sure he was there for either of them. Alan's body pulled him down to sit on the end of the steps.

"Dad? What happened?"

"I don't know Charlie. I don't know."

Charlie moved closer towards his dad. He understood it would be hard and he didn't want to push for answers but his impatience was starting to take control.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means I don't know. He knows. He knows we know. But. He…it's…I…It's like he hasn't admitted it to himself yet maybe. I've told him Charlie, but he hasn't told me."

Charlie shook his head. This was ridiculous. He had a breaking point that was considerably closer to the surface than his father's or Don's, and he'd reached it. It was time for action. _That's what Don would do._

"I don't even know what you're saying, but I know that it's enough. I'm going up there."

"You can't, he's not well, he got out of bed, he almost collapsed again. This is NOT what the doctor ordered."

"We don't know what the doctor ordered."

"Exactly. So enough of this. If he's weak he can't argue. I'm finishing this."

Before Alan could protest again Charlie had circumnavigated around his father and bounded up the stairs. Alan had no fight left in him. It was a waiting game. Waiting for Don to be ready. Charlie didn't do waiting well. Maybe he knew a mathematical expression that could tease out the rest of the questions for them both. Listlessly he raised his body up and walked upstairs.

* * *

Wham!

The door flew open. A genius flew in.

"Enough Don. I'm not leaving till you talk to me."

Don didn't respond physically. Mentally he groaned because he wasn't ready for this. He was confused and you never did anything until you knew what it was you were doing. How could they know, he never told them? _What was in that report? Damn you Reeves._

"And I'm going to talk to you until you do. So you decide how long this is gonna take."

Don turned his head at that.

"Right. Firstly, how dare you do this to us. We only care about you. You have a tumour, cancer, whatever it is and you keep it from us. KNOWING how hard it was for us when mom…well you know and you may have looked like you handled it but I suspect you never did. Still that's beside the point. You're an anomaly Don. A plus B equals C, OK. We're not animals, we don't leave our wounded and sick to die, we don't need to, you don't slow us down or endanger us by telling us this. You don't have the right to keep this from us. What happens if…what would happen if…and you'd never told us. We never get to say…all the things we want to say. God Don, not everything is about protecting us. Did it ever occur to you that what you were doing, protecting us, was the actual thing which was hurting us?" Charlie looked down at his brother. He seemed to be in pain but Charlie couldn't stop.

"You don't go through this alone. I understand you are like this. But please. Now just tell us. You look so…we've been so worried about you for weeks. We finally understand why you've been like this.."

"No." Don's quiet retort broke Charlie's train of thought.

"Yes Don. Yes we understand."

"That's just it Charlie you don't. No one does."

"Yes we do. Why can't you accept that." Charlie moved to sit down in the chair next to his bed. Exhausted but feeling like he was maybe getting somewhere. Arguing was good right?

"Accept what? You don't understand. If you'd just breathe for a second I could tell you."

_Tell me?_ Charlie released all the tension he was holding in. _Here it comes._

"There's no tumour. So very perceptive of you both but you're wrong. So now. YOU tell me how you both 'know'."

_What?_ Charlie was not expecting that.

"What?" Alan's figure had been at the door the whole time, he leaned in to the room. Arms folded, confusion spread across his face.

Don stared back at his family. "Shouldn't you be, I don't know, happy or something?"


	14. Chapter 14

"What? I'm confused." Charlie managed to string those words together and look back to his father to see if he was any the wiser. Alan looked as confused as he did.

"Listen, I don't understand. You're telling us you just have an infection. Nothing more."

"Yes." Don's mind was racing. "So if you'd like to tell me how you got this information."

"Hang on a sec. You telling us there was never any tumour." You could tell Alan's mind was methodically putting pieces in place.

"Yes. God." Weariness was pulling Don under.

"But for there to have never been a tumour…at one point you must have thought you had a tumour. Right." Charlie had figured out where his father had been going with this.

Closing his eyes at this statement, Don tried to block his family out. He'd caused this somehow and he didn't really know how it happened. Still, he had memory lapses from his collapse and that mysterious report Megan suggested he read. If he could gather the strength, he knew he'd only take a couple of seconds to work it all out. In truth, he was exhausted. "Bed rest at the Eppes' isn't all it's cracked up to be," he said from behind his closed lids.

"I'm taking that as a yes Donnie." His father gave Charlie a concerned look and nodded with his head that they should leave. "Rest now but we'll be back later to discuss this."

Charlie reluctantly followed his father out of Don's room.

* * *

"Well that's great news. No, I know. You have to trust he's telling you the truth. You know him better than I do, but he's not someone who'd lie when confronted. He's more likely to evade the question rather than lie. No. It's fine. You too. Thanks Alan."

Megan removed her glasses from her face and folded them on to her desk. She looked around and saw David and Colby were still knee deep in paperwork and she walked over to them.

"Hey Megan, what's going down?" David peered up from over his paperwork. Colby turned himself in his chair when he realized Megan was standing there.

"Just spoke to Alan. He said Don doesn't have a tumour. Just an infection."

"Wow, excellent. But?" Megan's tone wasn't of relief like you'd expect. David was thinking the same thing but he preferred to hear her say it.

"But…it's great physically of course. But mentally it means he's probably gonna need…" She didn't have to finish the sentence. Colby and David nodded in agreement. Don would be spending some time with FBI psychiatrists before he was back on the team. With no single cause for the depression, it was clear the job had got to him. It wasn't enough to take away all their working hours in a day, now it had claimed Don's outside world. The FBI had its claws in to each and every one of their lives, and all of them lay waiting for the time it would smother them completely. It was always in the back of their minds. Strangely it seemed easier to deal with it happening to themselves than it did to a colleague.

"He'll be back. Soon. Even if it's just to kick our asses into line." Colby took the route of optimism and left it at that. He turned around to finish his paperwork and David and Megan stared at each other. Silently they agreed to take the same stance as Colby but it wasn't how they were going to be feeling until they actually saw Don back in the office. Back to his old, efficient but tough self.

* * *

Charlie stared at Alan the entire call. As soon as he put the receiver down he pounced with questions.

"What did she say? I mean what does this mean? How do we know.."

"Charlie. Stop. She said thanks for letting them know."

Charlie rolled his eyes and groaned, this was going to be worse than pulling teeth. Alan was deliberately going to draw this out.

"And," Alan gave Charlie a warning glare for the eye roll, "she said this will complicate things for his return to work"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if he did have a tumour, or thought he had a tumour then this 'mysterious' incident at work could be easily explained. She said this may make it a little harder but he'll be fine."

"I don't understand. None of us even know yet if he did think he had a tumour."

"Charlie," Alan poured them both a cup of coffee at the table. It was going to be a long conversation. "Charlie, it's pretty safe to assume he thought he did."

"Yeah but maybe he didn't find out he didn't until like yesterday or something. It's not like he's telling us much."

"True. Although if I know you're brother, he's not going to directly lie to us Charlie. We'll find out everything. Actually I want to talk to you about that."

Charlie eyed his dad suspiciously from over his cup of coffee. "What?"

"Well, I…I just think. Knowing Don. It's hard for him to discuss his feelings Charlie. Do you remember when you were 10 and your brother went away for that baseball camp week?"

Charlie racked his brain but had no recollection of a specific baseball camp for Don. There'd been heaps. "Which one?"

"There was only one of any importance Charlie." His dad eyed him up to let him know he didn't expect him to know. "Don was selected to train for a week with professional players. There was maybe one other kid from this area who went. It was a big deal."

"Hmm, maybe, not sure. There were lots of important baseball events he went to."

"See this what I am getting at. This was the most important camp Don went on in respect to baseball. It was at this camp he realized he could be a professional. He realized this was something he could pursue."

"But?"

"But, the week before he went you were invited to go to Princeton for a special course for gifted children. We even had journalists coming to the house."

"Oh yeah, that was embarrassing."

"Right. And not just for you Charlie. Don finally had done something significant, he'd been selected for something official. He was no longer the kid who didn't pay attention at school, and had to work hard on his grades and avoiding detention. Suddenly he had done something the family could be proud of."

Grasping where his dad was leading, Charlie put his coffee cup down. "Why does it always fall on me. I'm sorry, it wasn't easy for me either. I wasn't born like this on purpose."

Alan placed his hand on Charlie's arm. "I know that. Don knows that. We all knew it Charlie. Don even seemed relieved the spotlight was gone from him. He was happy just to go, he didn't need a fanfare. The point is Charlie. Don doesn't rely on anyone else for praise or criticism. He does it himself. He doesn't expect people to drop everything for him, he doesn't ask because he doesn't need it. We need it. He doesn't. He doesn't want anyone to feel bad for him because he deals with his feelings on his own, he doesn't draw attention to himself because he doesn't think it will be there. It's natural for him not to want to talk because he believes he's the only one who can fix his problems. But you know what I take comfort in?"

Charlie found it hard to believe there was any comfort to be found here. "What?"

"The fact that Don keeps these things to himself because he wants to protect us from them. He doesn't want his burden to be our burden."

"I want the burden. There's no comfort in that."

"I know Charlie, so do I. But see, despite being independent, despite not appearing to need us through his actions here, he's actually showing us how much he cares. He doesn't want to share his pain because he doesn't want to see us in pain. Whatever it was he was going through, it's over. Physically he's fine."

Charlie gave Alan an 'are you kidding' face.

"Alright, yes, he WILL be fine. But mentally Charlie. It's his mental state I'm worried about. It's not good for him to do this, best intentions and all. How many other times has he done it? It just seems like, like this time…this time he's gonna need our help no matter what. And from experience, two of us going up there is gonna feel like an ambush for him. I just think it's best if only one of us goes through this with him. He'll handle it better that way."

"And you think you should be doing that? No way, I want to help my brother."

"I know Charlie. I want you to help him too, but not this way. You do best when you make him realize that everything else is normal around him. You anchor him to real life." Alan looked at Charlie and considered this slightly amusing considering Charlie wasn't always anchored to real life himself. "Well you anchor him at any rate."

"ha ha."

"The point is, the best thing you can do is be the person he speaks to who isn't interested in doing anything but be his friend. I've wiped enough of his ass during my lifetime to get away with pushing him and it not be as big an issue. He's still you're older brother and he still needs to maintain that persona."

Charlie digested his father's words. "True, I could really annoy Don by giving him an equation for how much sweat is in the bed now that he's oozed all over it."

"My son the comedian. Well laughter is the best medicine as they say."

Alan picked up the coffee cups and headed to the kitchen. Charlie looked up the stairs to where his brother was lying.

* * *

Don lay on the bed. The sweaty sheets provided a restless sleep. When he did finally realize that the sleep wasn't going to work he found his mind was working against him as well.

Here he was. Stuck in his brother's house. The house he grew up in. His father and brother were thinking he had a tumour. He'd thought he had a tumour. He has no recollection of ever telling anybody and yet here everyone knew. And yet, there was no tumour. If it wasn't so depressing for him, he would have found it funny.

The only answer lay in the few clues he had. Alan said he'd told them. Megan told him he should read the report. There were things in it he knew but didn't know they knew. _Right? _The only conclusion was he'd said something about a tumour after the incident. _God. _He'd worried his team and his family. And all for nothing. It was like everything he did was bound to hurt the people closest to him. He felt like a complete mess. As though there was some force dragging him down and making sure everybody he cared about went down with him.

His body was tired. His mind was tired. There was no pleasure in anything he did anymore and the last thing he felt like doing was having to support his family through this. He had a lot of work to do with them, and obviously his team, to rectify the notion he was dying. _God. At least it's something I can do. Can't I?_

As if his father was tuned in to his thoughts, Alan appeared at the door. A bowl of soup in his hands.

"God. More soup?"

"You can bite my head off if you're hungrier."

Don gave his father a look that indicated the humour was not appreciated.

"So. We're gonna have a little chat. No excuses."

"Fine."

Alan opened his mouth to defend the protests and it took a second to realize he hadn't got any.

"Oh. OK. Well let's start with why you think you need to hide something like this from your family."

"I think I was the last person with an unanswered question. How did you find this out?"

"Does it matter? Does it really matter Donnie? Somehow we knew you went through all this on your own and you care more about how we know than the fact you hurt us."

"The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you."

"We know. We know why you do it Don. Don't you think we've worked you out by now? Part of this is nurture, but it's built in to you. Your mother was stubborn. Your mother didn't want to burden other people. Your mother would have understood. But she's not here now and Charlie and I don't understand because it's a burden for us to constantly be watching you to see if you are ok. How do you think your brother is handling this Don? You know how your mother's illness affected him and you were prepared to let that happen again. I just don't understand it."

Don sighed and leaned in to the pillow. His father was right and yet oh so wrong. How could that be. That damn cat in a box again.

"Well if I know how you know then I can blame someone else for this. As I clearly don't have a tumour then whoever told you is responsible for doing this to you."

"You don't believe that anymore than I believe you are that kind of a person."

His father was right. He didn't believe that. He didn't want to lay blame. He just wanted to be left alone and this kind of felt like his life wasn't his own. Not that he held much care for his life at the moment, which was the real problem.

"Donnie. I care about you not telling us but that's not what's bothering me. I want you to be able to share what's going on in your life but I accept that's not who you are. What bothers me is that you think you need to go through life alone. You seem scared to reach out to anybody and that worries me."

Don looked at his father. His wisdom was evident, and really annoying for someone who was so private. _What the hell._

"Dad. I don't want to go through life alone but I don't know anybody who understands what my life is like. You try, Charlie tries, but none of you are there. Neither of you have to see the horrors that my job digs up every day. You both get snippets of my life but you can't truly experience it."

"None of us can Donnie. You don't know what I went through when your mother died. I hope to God you never know, the same way you think. Doesn't mean I felt alone. Well ok, maybe a little alone, but I didn't feel like I was going to be alone. You're right, I don't know what it's like to see a dead child or to kill a man but I don't want you to feel like you're alone."

Don snorted. "And you think staying here, in this bed, I am not aware of how NOT alone I am? Is Charlie behind the door ready to attack next."

"Give him half a chance and he would be. But no, he's not Don. You know, we may not be able to help you with this pain over your job but we can be here for you. You need to speak to someone who does understand though. And next time, before you even think of shutting me or Charlie out, just think about how you would feel if we kept something like this from you."

Don shuffled in his bed. _Damn._ He knew his father was going to get to that point eventually. "A leopard can't change his spots."

Alan gave Don a warning look.

"But I'll try. Now is that soup even hot still?"

Alan patted Don on the thigh. He felt like his message was received. He knew it wouldn't make much difference but at least he got a crumb of what was really wrong. _Don and his job._ Strangely enough this made him feel better. The FBI could deal with that. It was something that could be fixed. He could get his son back. "The soup is gazpacho. I think you'll find it's a dish best served cold."


	15. Chapter 15

**_Apologies to anyone who has been following this story. Computer problems meant I wasn't able to post this last chapter till now and it feels like an anti-climax. At least this is the last chapter finally._**

* * *

Sleep had claimed Don for a solid 12 hours. It made Charlie as frustrated as hell. After his father had spoken to Don, Charlie was itching to get up there and talk to his brother. It wasn't just that he couldn't keep secrets, he was desperate to find them out as well. Part of this was what led him to be so involved in his math – the discovery – but part of it was just the fact he was a little brother.

"Charlie. Not till he wakes up." Alan peered over his glasses at the image of his youngest son tapping his fingers on the touchpad of his laptop, deep in thought.

"Fine." Charlie looked over at his dad. "No. Not fine. Are you sure he's gonna be..."

"Charlie, he's fine. He knows how we feel, I don't want him to feel worse by hammering that into him. I want him to get better. I want him to seek help. Besides, when hasn't he ever been fine." He paused before adding, "Until this glitch."

Charlie pondered this. It was true. Don was always fine. Charlie was occasionally tuned in to his emotions from his immersion in his world but he still never more than scratched the surface. Don pulled himself along just fine. Until now.

Charlie finally stopped thinking about Don and started thinking about a problem he could solve. How to get a call linked up to Larry for his birthday. He began to type an email to Larry's contact at NASA who said he'd help.

"The game on?"

Alan and Charlie noticeably jumped.

"What the hell are you doing downstairs?" Alan enquired while jumping to his feet.

Don was standing only through the support of the wall at the end of the stairs. His cheeks were flushed slightly pink from the effort it had taken him to come down the stairs. Surprisingly, ignoring the sweat, he looked better for it. He made an attempt to move towards one of the chairs by the television as he spoke. "Bored. Please don't make me go back up there."

Alan gave Don a warning glare. He knew what he was doing. Don was making an effort. And if he was making an effort, even if he physically shouldn't have been, it meant he was making an effort to get out of the black pit he'd fallen in. Things would be OK. "Fine. But you don't move from the chair. After Charlie told me about how much sweat a sick person releases into the sheets during an average day I can't say I blame you."

Charlie jumped up to help his father guide Don to the chair. Don was about to protest but he bit his lip. His conversation with his father the previous day had gotten to him. He'd spent time thinking about the effect he was having on his family. On Charlie especially, he had begun to feel guilty about doing it. He then thought about how much pain his father had been through in his life and thought he was selfish to be doing this to them. He couldn't stop feeling the way he did. There was nothing he could do about his depression. _There I've said it._ But the fact he wanted to stop doing this to his family. Well, he knew enough about behaviour to know that meant he was on the way up.

The hours he'd spent on the bed thinking had brought clarity. He knew nothing could help resolve his feelings over killing people. He knew that. But he also knew that he had to go on living so he had to find a way. That in itself was good. It meant he was ready. _God. I can't believe I am thinking this._ It meant he would go willingly to the FBI shrink and try and work with them over this. Not that he wouldn't have before, but before this happened, he just didn't want to acknowledge that he had sunk so deep. He knew the grief of losing a human life from both sides and he knew that only he held the answers because in truth, there simply weren't that many people alive who could help him.

Now, all he wanted was to feel normal again. For a few seconds he had felt glad he didn't have a tumour. _This is the start of the hill._

All this swum through his head as he had been walked to the chair by his family. It was a few minutes before he realised Charlie was staring at him out the corner of his eye.

"What Chuck?"

"Don't call me that."

"Then don't sneak peeks. What do you want?"

"I." Charlie had been caught out and he still couldn't understand why after all these years of being caught out he'd never come up with a sufficient comeback for his brother. "I'm. Just checking my periphery vision actually. It works fine thanks for asking. Sorry you happened to be in the way while I was doing it."

"Always were crap at not being obvious buddy. And, for a genius, boy do you suck big time at lies."

"Yeah well not all of us have FBI training at keeping secrets."

This comment hung in the air. Tension sparked. Alan stopped doing his sudoku puzzle to look over at his boys. Ready to jump in and defuse the situation if needed. _If needed._

Don stared back from the television at his little brother and began to shake his head. His face omitting any signs of laughter it had previously contained. Charlie swallowed fearing he'd caused Don to go two steps backwards. He looked over to Alan who was also slightly shaking his head at him.

Don finished shaking his head and looked down into his lap. "And to think," he began before looking up into Charlie's eyes, "how the hell did you get security clearance above mine? Honestly there's something not right with the world."

Charlie let out a breath of anxiety he'd been holding. The old Don was back. At least he was making an effort.

Don stayed in the chair and watched a baseball game while his brother and father tried their best to be normal around him. It was all unspoken but every single one was tuned in to the fact that Don was ready to move on and so nobody please speak about it again because it was being sorted.

* * *

Even though it was an exciting game. Don drifted off to sleep before the end.

"Should we move him?" Charlie looked across to his father who had begun making dinner for the evening and had just come back in from the kitchen.

"Hmm." Alan looked at Don. It couldn't be comfortable but he really didn't want to disturb him while he was sleeping. "Look dinner will be ready soon. How bout we wake him then and he can decide what he wants to do."

Charlie got up and walked across to his father. He whispered just in case he'd wake up Don. "Seriously, do you think he's OK?"

"Charlie. He will be. Depressed people don't make an effort to join their families downstairs. I think we can take that as a sign. He's accepted the fact that we know he thought he had a tumour and that maybe next time it's not the best course of action to take to keep it from us. I don't know what more we can do other than to be here for him if he needs us. And I'm not saying he will Charlie either!"

Charlie sighed. His dad was right. He looked back over to Don. All they could see was the back of his head resting on the chair. "He's not getting out of this that lightly."

Alan waved a finger at Charlie. "Don't you go antoginizing him. He needs rest. He's still got a couple of days of bed rest ordered for him. And I intend to take advantage of that." Alan smirked and walked back into the kitchen.

* * *

"Don." Fingers lightly squeezed his shoulder and shook it. Don was still hovering in a dream and so he didn't react first go. "Don. Dinner."

Gradually an eye opened and he looked up to see Charlie grinning in his face. "What?"

"Dinner. Do you want some or do you want to go back up to bed. I hear that's where most people prefer to sleep. In a bed."

"Dinner huh. What kind of dinner?"

Alan barged through the kitchen door with the last of the food. "It's meat and veg Donnie. And you need to eat something."

Charlie looked down at Don trying to read his sleepy features.

"I guess I could be hungry."

"Alright then, I'll make you a plate. You gonna be OK to eat on your lap?" Alan enquired.

"Nah, I'll sit at the table with you guys. I'm not an invalid."

"Well actually Don technically you are." Charlie smirked.

"Oh really. Well this invalid can still kick your butt. I'm coming."

Alan was unsure if Don should be sitting up at the table with them but he didn't want to push anything. Besides he felt Don's newfound jovialness was a sign that he was getting better. The infection was on the way out and clearly Don was coming out of a fog of sickness that hadn't made him think straight. Of course, Alan didn't want to do anything to push him back into illness and therefore the depression. "I don't know Don."

Don cut him off and was already standing, "You don't know but I do. I'm fine. I want to have dinner with my family. I've slept like most of this week away. I am not going to kill myself to eat a table."

"Ok then." Alan relented.

Charlie walked behind Don ready to help him to the table if necessary.

* * *

All three men sat while Alan handed around the plates. Don took the opportunity to stare at each family member and grin without them knowing. He was going to be OK. Things certainly weren't fine and he was still hiding a lot from his family but things were going to be just fine. The important stuff was sorted. The conversation had turned cosmic as Charlie and Alan were discussing whether or not time would seem to move slower for Larry in space where the usual markers didn't apply.

"I don't know, I think it would drag. Not knowing when to get up and do stuff. People need routine Charlie." Alan stated.

"I don't."

"Yes, well, it is widely accepted you are not people Charlie. You're a genius, you're supposed to be slightly skewed."

"Hey. If you prick me...All I'm saying is I think Larry would not be noticing time moving at all because he's free of those routines."

"There's never enough." Charlie and Alan stared at Don. This comment seemed to have come out of nowhere.

"And yet here you are with all of it in the world." Alan replied softly.

"It's all I do have left in the world." Don's eyes seemed sad and Alan and Charlie both felt that a meal at the table had been too much for him. "Time I mean. It's all we do have. So I guess Larry would still be thinking about it Charlie. It's the only thing we have that we can never escape. Larry may get lost in his work like you do, but both of you still have to accept that time IS still moving without you. It doesn't stop for us just because we want it to or because we aren't paying attention to it. Before you know it you're all grown up and no longer a child prodigy. Or no longer into playing baseball. Or." Don looked at his dad. "Or no longer married."

Alan and Charlie were dumbfounded. Truly Don had been hanging around the geeks too long, he was starting to sound like them. Alan was a little worried he was too serious and his joviality had been a mask like always. Then Don spoke. "Just saying is all. I mean if we're talking about it from a philosophical point of view. No matter what you geeks do Charlie you still can't make time move backwards so the point is moot. It's always going forward." He looked up at his family with their serious faces and smiled. "Just my 2 cents of course. Hey Chuck, the mustard."

Charlie handed Don the mustard for his steak. Don unscrewed the top and then went to scrape some out of the jar. It was empty. "What the?"

Alan looked at Charlie with a frown. "Where'd you put the mustard I bought the other day?"

Charlie gulped. "I didn't touch it."

"Yeah sure." Don smirked.

"I did not touch the mustard. I think you didn't buy any."

Alan looked at Charlie and pointed with his fork, "$1.28, Dijon. Bought on Wednesday. I have the receipt. I am not senile."

"Well now I am thinking maybe that's an option because I haven't touched any mustard."

"It's not like you pay much attention to domestic stuff Charlie. Can't you just go look for the mustard. Your poor sick brother can't eat this without it." Don added.

"Well if you're so sick bro maybe you shouldn't be eating anything as rich as mustard huh."

"Charlie just go look." Alan said as he placed his cutlery next to his plate.

"No, I know I didn't touch it because you didn't buy any. I thought that was the new mustard. You must be getting confused."

Don started to get up from his chair. "Fine. I'll go check."

"Great Charlie, see what you've done."

"Oh for…Fine." Charlie threw his hands up at his father's comment. "I'll check for mustard, but I'm telling you you didn't buy any."

Charlie got up from the table in a huff and went into the kitchen. Alan and Don smirked at each other.

"You didn't buy any mustard did you?" Don said.

"Nope."

They both laughed.

"Charlie's right. I don't feel well enough to have anything as rich as mustard tonight. I'll be lucky to get through this steak. But I'm not telling Chuck that."

Don grinned. Everything was going to be OK. Except maybe Charlie, he was going to be pretty pissed once he worked out everyone knew there was no mustard and he was right….


End file.
